Saevus Amoris
by Odinsloot
Summary: 24 years after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, and all is not well. A child with magic beyond comprehension threatens to throw the wizarding world into choas and destroy everything Harry's strived for. On Haitus until otherwise stated.
1. In Which a Homicide is Discovered

**DISCLAIMER: ****I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the Wizarding world created by JK. Rowling. I',m just borrowing it for a bit :)**

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It was eerily silent in the late night gloom as the three Aurors approached the house. Tense lines rippled through their shoulders and all stood with their wands raised, muscles bunching at the smallest movements as if expecting to be attack at any moment.

The smallest of the three and the only female of the group, Efren Yodelbroach, was particularly surly about their predicament. It was rare to get a case like this, unlicensed magic use and something that seemed like an unforgivable curse but wasn't quite one. According to the report they'd be given from the Improper Use of Magic Department in the Ministry of Magic (the case had been handed over to the Aurors after a twinge of dark magic was found), there was definitely magic involved, but not from any registered wand user. Usually this would have lead the department to assume that it was some of the accidental magic cases they got from wizards not yet old enough to attend Hogwarts, but the dark magic cancelled that out. No baby magic was powerful enough to render an unforgivable curse.

It was a fishy situation with no definite answers, and that was quite possibly Efren's least favorite type of case. She was a perfectionist. She liked to have every single square inch of the case laid out in front of her before she did anything, but now her team was being sent in with almost no information at all. It wasn't her style. The case was doomed to come up with little or no answers, and if there was anything she hated more than having nothing to work on, it was failure.

"What the bloody 'ell is that Potter doing? Sending us out in the middle of the damn night to some muggle neighborhood in the middle of nowhere…" The man to her left, the burlier of Efren's two male partners continued to mutter under his breath after a look from his other partner, a thin and gangly brunette.

"You're not trying to say that the man who defeated the dark lord doesn't know how to asses a little thing like an unlicensed magic case, are you, Gustus?" Efren hissed, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. Gustus shot her a quick glance, and then returned to staring at the house.

"No bu-"

"Then shut up before you bloody get us killed," he responded with presenting his partners with the gift of silence. Efren smirked in victory, and silently the three approached the front door of the residence.

As they neared it, what had appeared to be just a simple single-family home in a muggle neighborhood began to show distressing signs of damage. What had looked like a black gate from the sidewalk was actually the front door, giant splinters sticking out of a bend in the middle of the door, as if somebody had kicked it in hard enough to split the wood, but not quite hard enough to break it completely in half. The windows, though not broken, had hairline cracks lacing through the glass. The overhang of roofing on top of the door had collapsed in, and there were giant holes going through the roof. It wasn't yet clear if the holes were from something breaking _in _or something flying _out _but either way it didn't look good for whoever was inside.

Gustus, being the more intimidating (and large) of the three, approached the front door, Efren and the brunette, Liam, both with their backs to the wall on either side, wands ready to stun anybody that tried to push past Gustus. "Ministry of Magic," Gustus bellowed into the house.

There was a tense moment of silence, and no response came from inside the dark dwelling. "A 'right. You won't come out then I'm comin' in!" Gustus yelled, and pointing his wand at the half-wrecked floor. "_Reducto!" _The door flew off the hinges, crumpling like it was being squeezed in the hand of an invisible giant. The wreckage flew into the house, slamming against the far wall with a crash. The echoes of the impact of the door bounced within the space for quite some time before all was still and silent again. Liam and Efren exchanged a look, and Efren shrugged in response to the unspoken question, her eyes echoing his confusion.

Not one for empty threats, the rather large Auror stepped inside cautiously. He was tense, a stunning spell on the edge of his lips in case of a hidden attacker. The two wizards outside held their breaths, ears straining for the creaking of floorboards or the carefully controlled breathing of a hidden presence. After a few minutes of silence, Liam and Efren followed their coworker inside, the trio as tense as a cat before pouncing.

"It looks like somebody set off a bomb in here," Liam muttered, pushing the shattered remains of a couch out of his way. He had no idea where it'd been originally, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be propped up horizontally against the wall like that. Actually, once it was mentioned, Efren began to notice that _none _of the furniture was resting on the floor. Every table, lamp, chair, and couch was against the wall in all forms of disarray. It was extremely curious, to say the least. Gustas nodded at the staircase leading to the second floor, indicating that he was going to see what the situation upstairs was.

Fairly confident that there wasn't anybody hiding on the ground floor, Efren cast _Lumos _and used the light at the tip of her wand as a guide light, making her way through the west side of the house, while Liam pressed off to the east. Liam whistled under his breath at the damage inside, taking into note the cracked dining room table and the chandelier that'd been thrown (?) with so much force it had burst a whole _up _into the next floor. "Weird," He whispered to Efren from across the house.

Efren was preparing to agree, when she tripped over something in the darkness, barely holding her hands out in time to stop herself from slamming face-first into the hard-wood floor. Liam, still bumbling a bit in the dark, jumped at the sound of a body smacking the ground. "Efren?" Her wand had dropped and rolled off onto another section of the floor, so it wasn't until Liam swung his wand around that she was fully able to see what had tripped her in the dark room. Her eyes widened, and she choked back a scream, swallowing the burst of panic with it. She tried to open her mouth, but the words wouldn't form, and all she got out was a few strangled squeaks before she finally got her vocal chords to work. "Oh, Merlin's Beard,"

"Bloody hell that's gruesome," Liam remarked dryly, gazing at the source of Efren's horror from across the room with a grim look of disgust.

Efren heaved herself out of the push-up position and back onto her feet, a bit pink from shock and physical exertion. She sighed, wiping her hands on her jeans and taking another look at their newly-found evidence. She wished ever so much that she'd had a chance to sit up before she'd seen what she was laying on top of. She feared it would be burned into her memory forever. Sure, being an Auror wasn't exactly a glamorous job, but it certainly wasn't a usual occurrence to find yourself face to face with an unseeing, cold, corpse. "Something told me there would be bodies," she muttered, wiping her face off on her robes, "I just didn't know that I'd get _that _close,"

Liam ran his flashlight over the area of the dead body quickly, startled to see that Efren was incorrect this time. "Uh-uh. Two bodies," he pointed with his wand and Efren followed, looking queasier by the second.

Being the closest to the bodies at the current moment, it fell to her to examine the bodies. Mentally forcing herself to hold her lunch down, Efren peered closer at the faces of the two bodies. They were opposite genders, around the same age, she could assume. The man lay slightly on top of the woman, as if he had tried to push her behind him in the moment of their demise. Both wore wedding rings, perhaps they were married to each other? Efren made mental notes of all of this for the report later. She was just beginning to check their pockets for wands when she remember that she'd dropped her own in all the excitement over discovering the assumed homicide victims. "Lee," she asked quickly, patting her pockets anxiously, "Did you see my wand, I think it fell somewhere

ov-"

"Found it," Liam interrupted her, his voice cracking a bit.

"Throw it," she replied, without looking up.

"Efren!" his voice cracked again and something about his tone made her look up. She froze. Liam had found her wand all right. It'd be kind of hard to miss, since it was pointing directly at his chest. It was being held by a small girl, somewhere in her teens. She was petite, with hair of some kind of dark color and deeply shadowed eyes. Her features were mostly indistinguishable in the dark, but it was very clear that she was holding Efren's wand in her right hand. Liam, caught off guard, had had no time to defend himself, and instead had his arms up in the air, wand in hand, surrendering lest she injure him, or worse.

"WHO ARE YOU!" The child screamed, wand wavering in her hand. Her voice was high-pitched and hysterical. Both Liam and Efren tried to answer, but they were cut off again with another high-pitched scream, "GET _OUT!_" a tremor ran through the floor, like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Several of the articles of furniture fell off the wall and crashed on the floor. In the chaos, Efren's view was cut off as a bed from the second floor fell between her and her partner, along with a rather large chunk of the ceiling. Plaster dust filled the entire bottom floor, choking the air with thick white clouds. Signs of a struggle echoed through the dust.

"Ministry of Magc! PUT THE WAND DOWN!"

"You don't want to hurt anybody. Just put the wand down and-"

"_STUPEFY!_"

"_DIFFINDO!_"

A burst of color exploded in the room. Rainbow streaks mixing with the bright red plash of the stunning spell ricocheted around the room, lighting up the dusty fog that was still slowly settling down in the half-light. A cry of pain and a sting of muffled curses echoed overtop of the sound of something being banged on a wall. Efren hurled herself over the fallen divan, where she could see the scene more clearly. Gustus had the girl around the waist, struggling to hold her as she kicked against the wall, fighting against his grip like a feral cat. Liam was watching the scene carefully, both his and Efren's wands in his grip, on in each hand. His face was contorted in concentration, trying to aim a spell at the female, but afraid of hitting his coworker with the blast.

With no time to wonder how Gustus had gotten himself involved in it, Efren yelled for Liam to throw her wand, launching an _immobulu_s charm at the girl the second she got a relatively clear shot. The small body immediately went slack and Gustus dropped her to the ground, heaving a sigh of relief. Now that he was still, the scratch marks on his face and arms were clearly visible in the wand-light. Laim shot an accusing glare across the room at Efren, who shrugged.

"You were taking too long," She smirked, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly, "And besides, my aim is better than yours."

"She's just a kid," Gustus leaned over the body of the girl. She was awake, but unable to move, her eyes the only inclination that she wasn't sleeping. She was wide awake, eyes darting from side to side, pupils tiny with panic. "She's can't be a day over 17 at the very most. _Lumos," _he raised the light at the tip of his wand to their captured victim's face, studying her features. She had a curtain of dark hair and huge bright blue eyes. Her eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep and tear trails broke through the dusting of dirt on her face. Severe, high cheekbones and full lips gave her a feral, starved expression, and her hair was uncombed and wild.

Efren glanced over her quickly. In her opinion, the girl looked like a muggle drug addict or something equally distasteful. She shuddered a bit, wondering exactly how a person went around getting into that kind of condition. She was disgusted and never mind the fact that she had two bumbling idiots for partners: Liam, for one had let a _child _hold him at wandpoint. God knows how that would have ended if he'd been there by himself. And Gustus had just taken his sweet time coming downstairs through all the yelling. What kind of grown man couldn't hold a girl, and an emaciated one at that? True, she'd dropped her wand, but she fell, so that wasn't really her fault, right? Right. She clapped her hands in the darkness, pleased. She had a suspect. No matter _how _they'd caught her, at least this way they'd have something to show for the hours they'd spend working overtime to check out the house. This was just splendid! "Liam, Gustus, you two stay here and look for anything else suspicious. I want anti-muggle charms around this place _immediately _and one of you better start writing out a report, got it?"

Liam and Gustus nodded, both wondering why they were being bossed around by the youngest (and smallest) member of the Auror Department. "But what about the girl,?" Gustus nudged her with her foot, wincing at the memory of those nails.

"Oh her," Efren shrugged some of the plaster dust off of her robe casually. "She's going straight back to the Ministry," she bent over the little girl, smirking once again. "How'd you like to meet Harry Potter?"

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**A/N: So, this is my first fanfiction ever. I hope you guys like it. This is kind of a mix of a prologue and a chapter one. I'm not really happy with it, I can do so much better but I've been retouching and scrapping parts for three days now and I'm kind of sick of it so I decided to finally upload it. Chapter one will be coming _really _soon, I promise. And yes, the actual characters will come in Super soon, ext Chapter in fact. I don't really mind if you don't review, but I'd love to know what you think. I myself of guilty of reading and not reviewing, but I welcome constructive criticism and questions. Also, sorry for any mistakes. I proofread several times, but I'm horrible at proofreading so I apologize in advance. Thanks for reading :)**


	2. In Which Future Events are Decided

**Disclaimer****: Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling…hence the reason why this is being posted on a fanfiction site and isn't, you know, published. Yeah.**

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It was certainly something to smile about. It was hard to frown when the Boy-Who-Lived was finally getting the happiness he deserved. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like: being orphaned as an infant, being given to your muggle relatives, and facing the most evil wizard the world has ever known on multiple accounts on multiple accounts, only to be the one to destroy him in the end.

It was a great story, honestly; a wonderful one. Sometimes it sounded so amazing that it was hard for Albus to read the newspaper clippings subtlety criticizing the sanity of Harry Potter or hear his father tell them about his search for the last Horcruxes during what should have been his final year at Hogwarts. It wasn't until he went to Hogwarts and learned that everybody knew about him and his family that he actually honestly _got _it. Before then, he'd kind of assumed the stories were a running joke in the family, or some absurd story that his Dad and Uncle Ron had made up together to see how gullible their children were. It was a little far out for his Dad to prank his own children, but it was right up Uncle Ron's alley, and if anybody could convince Harry to do it, it was him.

It was like his father was three separate people in his mind. First, he was a boy; a Gryffindor at Hogwarts with a distinguishing scar on his forehead. He failed tests, did his homework, had two amazing best friends, and a running rivalry with his Potion's Professor and Draco Malfoy. He got detention, had crushes, at lunch, and thought about quidditch pretty much all of the time. He was a boy that Albus had never met, and probably never would meet, outside of small moments in Photos. He had one picture of his dad in his room, in a desk drawer. A twelve year old harry potter, skinny and frail, eternally struggling to escape the firm grip of a grinning, idiotically oblivious Gilderoy Lockhart. He was the Harry Potter that very few knew: a boy with a troubled past that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

Then there was the second Harry. He was _The _Harry Potter: The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Boy-Who-Saved-Us-All, the vanquisher of Dark Lord Voldemort. He was the symbol for any wizard struggling against dark forces. First antagonized by the press at every angle, and then revered by all, he is been the most famous and popular wizard of the generation. He's the Harry who saved the Philosophers stone, the Harry who discovered the chamber of secrets. He fought off basilisks, dragons, mermaids, and Voldemort himself. He was quite possibly the best seeker to play on the Gryffindor House Quidditich team in years, and on top of all that, won the Triwizard Tournament at the age of _fourteen. _He was a boy who did great things, feats that had gone undone for _decades. _He did them all – "With a lot of help and luck," as he humbly persists in mentioning. He was the Harry Potter that everybody knew _of _but very few knew much about aside from his accomplishments.

And then there was Harry Potter, the father. He was the odd one out, the one that Albus knew best, but somehow had trouble picturing fighting Death Eaters and Founding an illegal club at Hogwarts. He could see traces of it in him sometimes: the round glasses and messy hair from the boy at Hogwarts; the gleam of adventure in his eye when he spoke of breaking into the bank to find a horcrux all those years ago. He could see it in the lines of worry etched around his eyes when he watched them go off to school every year on the first of September, praying that they came home in one piece. But it didn't match up with other things. His Dad was the Harry Potter only the family and his friends know. When you read the Daily Prophet, nobody mentioned how Harry stopped by Bill and Fleur's house every year to lay clothes on the grave of his deceased House Elf friend. Nobody knew that he used to curl up in bed with Albus and Lilly when they had bad dreams or weren't feeling well, his body forming a protective crescent around them. They didn't know his smile, didn't see the unabashed joy and love on his face when he looked at his children. They didn't know about the way he spoiled his kids behind Ginny's stern back, ensuring that they got the childhood he wished that he could have. No, it was impossible, unimaginable, that that happy man had seen so much pain, so much death when he was but a few years older than Albus himself. It couldn't be.

Looking down at the picture frame in his hand, it was hard for Albus to decide exactly which Harry he was looking at. A happy couple: a black-haired man with glasses, and a woman with startling red curls danced held each other, foreheads pressed together, green and brown eyes gazing at each other as if they were staring at the most beautiful thing in the world. A crowd applauded around them, and Albus could easily recognize his Aunt Hermione crying beside them, her hand held by Uncle Ron, whose ears had turned slightly pink at the display of affection beside them. Albus watched as Harry took Ginny by the waist and spun her, laughing so hard that neither of them noticed the Garden Gnome dashing off with her fallen bouquet of flowers. His eyes landed on a sobbing Grandma Weasley, younger and plumper, next to his Grandfather, a smiling Bill and Fleur, holding a giggling Victiore Weasley, all three dressed in varying shades of blue. A smiling George, dressed in bright red and gold dress robes – he tended to try and stand out no matter what- and a worried looking Angelina, eyes watering as well.

Albus went through the whole image, pointing out everyone he could recognize. Professor Neville, Professor McGonagall, Luna Lovegood with her trademark radish earrings, Hagrid the Half-Giant, taking up enough seats for four people and blowing his nose into a tablecloth, and many, many others. The image was dominated by the redheaded mass that was the Weasley family, beaming and proud to welcome Harry Potter as an official member of the family. According to his mother, Harry had wanted to keep it a small, private, affair and invite only their closest friends and members of an order, but Grandma Molly had overrun their plans, insisting that it would be rude to not invite the multitudes of Weasleys, and in the end the guest list had been so long that they had to use and Expansion Charm on the backyard to make sure everyone could fit comfortably.

He ran a finger over the glass frame, smiling back at his parents. They were so in love and they still were after all these years. This Harry, he decided was a mixture of all three. He didn't look like _just _a hero, or _just _a father, or even _just _a previous Hogwarts student. He looked like a man that had a rough life, a man with sadness in his eyes that had made it through okay and was celebrating the happiest day of his life with the people who he loved most, and who loved him in return. I was something to smile about, he decided. There was always something to smile about when the worst of times are over…

"I'm back!" Albus jumped, juggling the picture in his hands as it fought to fall on the floor before catching it and clutching it to his chest tightly. His heart was beating about a mile a minute. _Holy shit, Mom would have killed me if I broke her favorite picture_ he thought, congratulating himself on the catch.

There was the sound of a lock in the door, followed by a gleeful laugh as Harry Potter strode into the room. He was dressed in a black sweater and leather gloves, with dark wash jeans on and expensive leather shoes that he wasted no time taking off and chucking across the room as soon as he was in the office. Albus grinned, wiggling his own socked toes on the leather couch. Harry returned the smile with a flash of white teeth, and threw a paper bag at Albus, who quickly began to rummage through it.

"Treacle tarts!" He dove a hand in to get to them, but was stopped by a dark look on Harry's face. The man was serious about his tarts. Knowing a defeat when he saw one, Albus sighed and took a sandwich and chocolate frog out of the bag, passing the rest to his dad. _Well, it never hurts to try,_ he thought with a longing sigh. It was hard to get his hands on any tarts – a shared favorite of Albus and Harry – while he was out of school for the simple reason that his father was horrid at sharing them. It was like he was a Mama Dinosaur, protecting her little treacle tart eggs…or something like that.

Albus smiled behind the chocolate frog, content for the moment. It was rare for him to go to work with his father, mostly because it was so dull in the Ministry of Magic. As a kid, Albus had jumped at his first chance to follow his dad to work; imagining hours spent late into the night catching escaped Azkaban Prisoners and Death Eaters by his father's side. In reality, being the Head of the Auror department turned out to be less about battling evil and more about paperwork, written statements, and the occasional emergency that Harry _had _to attend to (but Albus put those in the boring pile too because he was never allowed to go along anyways). As he got older, however, his Dad's office became more and more of a sanctuary. It was a quiet place where he could relax in peace with Harry for a few hours without having to deal with his siblings 16 year old James Sirius and 13 year old Lilly Luna Potter.

Albus had arrived at the Ministry with Harry, heavy lidded and half-asleep, a hour ago. Since then Albus hadn't done much except help his dad file and fill out some paperwork and laze around. It was fine, because he'd expected the day to start off slow and ragged…if only it had stayed that way…

Albus shifted his weight around; legs folded Indian-style on the chair, and placed the sandwich in the middle of it. Harry had plopped down at his desk, spooning tart into his mouth with one hand and reading a file with the other.

"Dad?" Albus spoke through a mouth of half-chewed sandwich. Harry made a questioning grunt in response, still reading. "Whatever happened to that case from yesterday? The weird one?"

"You mean that git who posed as a fake death eater?" Harry put his papers down for a moment, eyes squinting in concentration and general dislike.

"Nope, the other one," Harry frowned, trying to remember. Albus didn't blame him. The Boy-Who-Lived had more things to think about than anybody else except maybe the Minister of Magic.

"The one with the unforgivable curse?" Harry finally said, after a short pause. Albus nodded vigorously, grinning from ear to ear at the possibility of a story. Some claimed that Albus was a good listener, but in reality he just really loved stories. As a child, his Aunt Hermione had bought him _Tales of the Beedle and the Bard _for his 7th birthday, and since then he'd had a thing for them. Aunt Hermione still bought him books from time to time, pleased that she had someone to share her large library with since both Rose and Hugo seemed to have ended up more like their father when it came to their study habits.

"Well," Harry began, popping a bit of treacle into his mouth, "Nothing much has happened, other than what I told you the other day,"

Albus frowned, disappointment flaring over his features. "But it's been like three whole days!"

"These things take…time…" When he said "time," Harry really meant "paperwork." Since Kingsley had been in charge, nearly everything had a form at the Ministry of Magic. It was tedious work, but extremely necessary in order to track the actions of the Minstry of Magic. No longer could rich wizards bribe their way into getting laws passed, nor could Ministry workers slip money in and out of funds or lie about anything regarding their actions in the office, as everything was documented. Those who complained about paperwork were able to hire students for the summer or young wizards fresh out of Hogwarts to work as secretaries as Albus was "working" for his father now. To tell the truth, he wasn't doing paperwork because he was being paid, he was doing paperwork because he wanted something to do. As much as Harry disliked using his popularity in the Wizarding world as an advantage, nobody was going to say no to him allowing his children to spend a few hours in his office from time to time.

It went without saying that despite the paperwork, the Ministry as the whole was a nice place. Albus' Grandfather Arthur Weasley had few kind words about the Ministry when he worked there. He said it was a tense environment, where doing things such as studying muggle artifacts (his favorite pastime) and voicing your opinion against Ministry Policies was frowned upon, and during the latter part of the war, fatal. It was hard for Albus to imagine his father's job as anything but pleasant. He couldn't say much for the other floors, but he knew the Auror office was always bursting with fun. Several of the Auror's were clowns, and when there wasn't much to do you could bet that there'd be some pranking, or at the very least some kind of treat brought in to share at work. Harry's coworkers were like family. Some of them even came over for dinner sometimes. The auror office celebrated out of the box thinking and a change from the mundane, usual way of doing things. It was like the place Grandpa Weasley described was a completely different world.

"But didn't you send Efren out with her team last night? She should be back by now, right?" Albus' nose wrinkled with distaste at the mention of the witch. He didn't like Efren much, nobody did. She was bossy as hell, and even more of a perfectionist than his Aunt Hermione (if that was even possible). Albus thought she was a bit bipolar too, but he wouldn't dare say it to her face. But no one could claim that she was bad at her job. Efren had started her first year at Hogwarts in Harry's 7th year, and she'd taken it by storm. She was a brilliant witch, excelling in every class except Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. She wasn't very nice, but he team was reliable and they worked well together (when they weren't arguing).

Harry made a noncommittal gesture with his hand and shrugged. "I'm not worried. She knows what she's doing, and if they're taking a while, it probably means they found something." Once again, there was that unspoken mention of paperwork. Efren refused to hire a secretary, claiming that she was the only one who could do her files exactly as she needed them done. Evidence, picking up a suspect, and obtaining the warrant to search a location took a little time, but the organization ran smoother because of it in the long run.

Albus shrugged his impatient thoughts off, burying them. He could be patient, he could wait…or at least he thought it would. It was rare to find anything strange at the Auror office. Lately, there hadn't been much going on in the way of dark magic, and what was going on was easily diagnosable. Since the death of Lord Voldemort, the Auror's had become experts on picking up on the patterns that usually lead to Death Eaters or escaped Death Eaters. Handling the collection of Voldemort's followers was something that had been handled so often in the past few years that it was becoming a routine of sorts. Of course, with time and efficiency, the reports had decreased in number dramatically, and very few still managed to evade the Ministry's grasp. Nobody important still evaded capture, in the past two decades every Snatcher and Death Eater – with the exception of Fenir Greyback, and he'd never had the Dark Mark anyways – had be reprimanded. Only the latter still evaded capture and nobody had heard anything from him for so long most assumed he was dead and left him to a legacy of infamy through the nightmares of children.

Albus' thoughts were interrupted again by a short burst of wind through the room. A perky paper airplane, enchanted with remedial intelligence, burst into the room, hovering in front of Harry's face. Both the Potter's stared at it for a second, surprised. The little paper devil, apparently impatient, slammed itself into the bridge of Harry's nose, causing a string of curses to fly from his mouth. Albus winced, hissing sympathetically under his breath.

Harry snatched the paper airplane out of the aid briskly, afraid of being poked another time, and dismantled it quickly to read the note inside. "Well, speak of the she-devil," Harry sighed. Albus perked up instantly. Noting his interest, Harry swung the note around so Albus could read it.

_DOUBLE HOMICIDE. SUSPECT IN CUSTODY. BOTTOM FLOOR. URGENT. _

The note was written messily on a piece of parchment ever so slightly too small for the words, so that the "ent" in "Urgent" was written as a diagonal, slowly sliding off the parchment and clinging to its fellow letters for support.

"Can I go?" Albus asked quickly, before he lost his nerve. His dad rarely ever took him to do real Auror stuff, and even then it was nothing dangerous. If "double homicide" didn't mean dangerous, he didn't know what did.

Harry, who had risen up out of his chair to rush downstairs, paused for a moment. The lines on his face transformed from the hard stern lines of an instant refusal to a more peaceful expression of thoughtfulness. "I'm almost 16, you know," Albus added quietly, pushing his glasses up farther on the ridge of his nose. There was a short silence, then harry cleared his throat and straightened up.

"Yeah, sure. Come on," He said finally, fingers twiddling with the neck of his shirt. Albus pumped a fist in the air and silently cheered, launching himself out of the chair to grab his sneakers on the other side of the room.

He was absolutely thrilled. He finally, _finally _got to do something legitimate around here, and on such an interesting case, too. _I can't wait to see James' face when I tell him about it, _he thought, enthralled at the chance to have a leg up on his older sibling._ And I hope it's really bad, _he added, feeling slightly bad about wishing ill on others…but only a little bit. Mostly, Albus just wanted his first ever actual Auror tagalong/witness job to be something important. He wanted to be a part of something that would end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet, something he could be proud of.

He was going to get to be a part of it alright. He was going to be part of something that shook the Wizarding world to its core. Even Harry Potter couldn't have guessed the outcome of the events that had just been set in motion by his words or Albus by his wish. In their joy -and in Harry's Case, casual anticipation – that it would be a mere 24 hours before they both got their world's turned completely upside-down.

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**A/N: Okay, not a very good chapter, I must admit. I don't know quite why, but this took me FOREVER to write. I'd literally sit at the computer for hours and leave with a few sentences. Not feeling this chapter, at all, and I ended it at the first logical chance I got. I'm sorry there's a lot of explanations in this chapter, I've been just kind of trying to explain, one place at a time exactly how much has changed since Harry's 7****th**** year and it gets messy T^T**

**So yeah, cliffhanger. You like that? Probably not. I hate cliffhangers, unless there's another chapter right behind it. I hope you enjoyed reading!**


	3. Bickering

**Disclaimer: ****Go to Wikipedia, search "Harry Potter" anything you recognize is not mine. Now search "J.K. Rowling." Get it now? Good minions :)**

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"Bloody hell, woman!" Harry Potter sounded more frustrated than angry, as far as Albus could tell. _Here's hoping it stays that way. _He pulled on a lock of his shaggy hair uncomfortably, not sure exactly what to do except avert his eyes from the scene in front of him. Albus had assumed that Efren's urgent message had implied danger, not this. And by "this" he meant the borderline pornographic scene that Harry and Albus had – literally – stumbled upon mere seconds after exiting the elevator on the bottom floor.

Logically, one would assume that the words "murder," "urgent," "suspect," "custody," and "bottom floor" would have lead Harry and Albus to the lowest floor in the ministry, down a flight of steps, and through a door to a dark room that Harry Potter knew all too well from a certain nasty incident the summer before his 5th year. Makes sense, right? Well, apparently not.

"Have you no decency?" Harry hissed through clenched teeth, lowering his voice to address Efren personally among the small crowd that was watching the questionable scene with snide amusement. A heavy breath expelled itself from the figure pinned beneath Efren, a figure that Albus had only recently realized was alive. What had first looked like a pile of grime and dirt on the floor was in fact a human. Whether it was male or female Albus couldn't be sure, though he was leaning towards feminine given the length of hair and small frame. Her face was covered by a curtain of hair, matted by dust, and her chest heaved with effort as she struggled to breathe past the weight on her chest.

That weight, unfortunately, was Efren. She sat perched on the girl's ribcage, knees pinning her arms where they couldn't do any damage, her free hand pointing her oak wand at roughly where the girl's face would be. Albus, whose teenage mind was quickly transforming the display into something he _really _didn't want to think about, rubbed at his eyes with one hand, muttering to himself to clear the images. He wasn't a pervert by nature, no that was James' job, but _Great Merlin _it was so hard to not think that way when her crotch was right-

"Have you gone _MAD? _Get up!" Harry tugged at Efren's shoulder, who shrugged him off harshly, allowing herself a harsh glare in his direction before returning her attention to her pillow-er suspect.

"I can't." She hissed back, tone urgent.

"And why not?" Harry hissed back, getting quieter with each word. Albus' blood ran cold, and he was desperately glad for that moment that it wasn't him his father was addressing. His father had never used that tone with him, his wife, or any of his children. Ever. He didn't know what it meant and he didn't want to be the one to find out. "Do you know where you are, Yodelbroach? You are straddling a _child _in the middle of a government institution. _A child, _Efren."

"Oh really? That's where I am? I had no idea. Thank you for clearing that up, oh wise one," Her reply was dripping with sarcasm. Albus could almost see her tone pooling on the floor beneath her feet. "'Cause I am so _obviously _enjoying sitting on the chest of a reeking, dirty child. It's how I spend my holidays," She flashed a cheeky grin, rolling her eyes quickly.

"I don't have time for-"

"Look. If I could get up, I would. But I can't."

"What do you mean you _can't?" _Harry's tone was icy. Albus just shook his head behind his covered eyes.

_Stupid of her, really. You would think that after working under him for two years she would have figured out that Dad has a _thing _about children. _If he didn't know her better, Albus would have thought that Efren had put the whole thing together just to push his father's buttons. But she wouldn't do that. As annoying and patronizing as Efren could be, she was deadly serious about her work. Efren would rather parade around in the nude than be anything but extremely professional on the job.

"By 'I can't' I mean that ever since I stepped foot in the Ministry with her, she's been fighting me every step of the way. So far, this is the only way I've found to keep her restrained." Even Albus could hear the exhaustion in Efren's tone, and he understood it perfectly. No wonder the girl had been able to put up a fight, she was up against Efren. Now Efren was more than formidable with a wand, but some things couldn't be helped, like the fact that she was barely over 5''3 and couldn't well hold her own in hand to hand combat. The girl was close to her size, and absolutely insane from the looks of it. He wondered how she even got her in the elevator….

"Ever heard of a stunning spell? An immobility charm? Use your head, Efren! You're smarter than that!" There was Harry again. His voice was slightly louder, and he was on the edge of a hysterical laugh. Albus wasn't really sure if he preferred it over the low hissing. Both were equally disturbing. "_Get up." _The girl let out a pathetic-sounding gurgle of air, struggling to expand her lungs to full size under Efren. "She can't breathe!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands out as his voice hit a new level of hysteria.

Efren sighed and put her hands up in defeat, tucking her wand up into one of the loops in her braid for the moment. "Okay, Potter. Just don't say anything when I-" The next moment everyone moved at once. Albus only blinked for a second, and suddenly the girl was on her feet. Harry, caught by surprise, fell backwards as she barreled into him, the spell on the edge of his tongue exploding from his wand in a flash of red, hitting the ceiling as he toppled over, and rebounding into the crowd. The girl took a fraction of a second to spin around, eyes darting wildly around the room for something. Just as the crowd was beginning to put themselves into action, she sprinted forwards, towards the doors of the lift, left wide open at the arrival of Albus and Harry.

Before he could even think about how stupid it was, Albus reflexively moved to block her path, spreading his arms wide. They locked eyes, his green ones round with surprise, and her sapphire ones wide with irrational panic. A ghost of a thought was beginning to form in Albus' mind, and it seemed like everything moved in slow motion. He was quickly realizing the stupidity of his current position. Suddenly, he knew exactly how the next two seconds were probably going to play out, but before he could do anything about it she slammed into his chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her and he forced his eyes shut, flinching as a second later his head crashed into metal. It was so painful he could _smell _the pain, and the taste of iron soaked into his nose and mouth. He cried out, and suddenly he wanted to do nothing more than to wrap his arms around his skull to hold the pieces together. He would have done it too, if not for the insistent jerk on his arms.

With a start, he remembered why he'd slammed his head against the back of the lift, and why whatever had slammed into him was trying so desperately to get away. Biting back the pain he gripped her tighter around her waist, pinning him to her. Her arms were pinned in between them, and she struggled. It was like trying to hold onto a Blast-Ended Skrewt, without the blast (yet). She tore at his chest with sharp nails, and beat his chest with her fists as best as she could with her restricted arm space. Albus grappled with her, crushing her to his chest as tightly as he dared, cutting off her arm space completely.

With a definite clunk, the lift doors slammed shut. Albus barely had a chance to register the change in environment before a pair of teeth sank into his shoulder blade, crushing the nerves that ran to his neck between merciless jaws. He screamed in pain, feeling wet blood slide down his chest. His scream was answered by a hard slam on the lift doors from the outside.

"Albus!" the yell came from the other side of the door, muffled through the thick metal. Something was wedged between the doors, and the lift began to screech as the metal was bent. Albus was freed from the agonizing bite as the girl wrestled herself from his grip. In a moment she was up and standing, pounding furiously on the elevator controls. He could hear her murmuring something under her breath, and realized what was going on. She'd realized sooner than him that the lift was going to get broken into by whoever was on the outside if she didn't move the elevator, and _fast. _

Now as panicked as she was, Albus swung forward and grabbed her ankle, tripping her down onto the floor with him. Immediately her foot connected with his face, hard enough to make his vision swim. He was too late, however, and the lift shuddered to life, slowly inching upwards.

"SECOND FLOOR! SECOND FLOOR, DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LA-" He didn't know if the lift even recognized voice commands, but he had to try. Apparently the escapee didn't know either, because she rewarded his efforts by slamming a hand over his mouth, cutting him off with a shrill scream. He bit her hand, thoroughly sick of being manhandled, and she flung her arm out wildly, slamming him in the jaw. Albus tasted blood on the inside of his mouth, and he clutched the side of his face, head now throbbing in agony.

"Why? Why's it always got to be my fucking face?" He yelled at her, still reeling from his third hit of the day. He was quickly beginning to understand exactly why Efren had had to practically crush the girl to get her to 'd been in close proximity with her for less than 40 seconds, and he was already ready to pass out. It wasn't even like she was really fighting him either. No, this was no battle; just a bunch of random, desperate shots in the dark. They were cheap shots, and they bloody _hurt._

Trying to fight what would inevitably be a killer headache in the morning; Albus slammed his hands into her chest. She flew backwards at the surprise attack, flying against the opposite wall. He rushed to stand steady, hand fumbling in his pocket. A single breath later they were both on their feet, facing each other. Only this time, Albus had his wand. It was pointed directly at her chest as it heaved up and down with each panicked breath.

They both hesitated for a moment, and Albus had a chance to study her briefly. She was shorter than him, about 5'5, and her nose was about the height of his collarbone. Had they been standing chest to chest, Albus supposed her head would have rested right underneath her chin. Her hair was dark, though he wasn't sure if that was because of the dirt matted in it or if it was a natural color. Every inch of bare skin was coated with a layer of grime, so much so that he couldn't even guess at her skin tone. Her eyes were large and almond shaped; a shocking vibrant light blue amongst all the dirt. He could barely make out a nose beneath the grime, and brief glimpse of her lips, cracked and bleeding. Her left eye was turning purple, and her whole left cheekbone was bright red. Her face was hallowed out, like he imagined one might look after weeks of starvation and fatigue, or having their soul sucked out by a Dementor. She was dressed in dark, baggy clothes, also, predictably, dirty beyond recognition.

Every muscle on her body was tensed, waiting for him to make a move. She looked like a scrappy stray cat, backed into a corner. Every part of her was _daring _him, _begging _him to make a move. There was a challenge in her gaze, a fire flickering behind those eyes. He knew, without her having to say a word, that she would fight him to the death. He may have a wand, but she would not surrender. She would die before she keeled over and surrendered. She would fight as long as it was within her power to do so. _She's bloody mad, _Albus thought, not for the first, and certainly not for the last time.

The lift was silent, save for the heavy breaths of the two young wizards and the hollow whistle of air going past the lift as it flew towards the next floor up. It had only been moments since she'd ran into him and threw them both into the lift, but it felt like hours. In that short amount of time Albus had gone from a healthy condition to some later stage of attempted murder. His head felt like his skull was shattering, his shoulder was throbbing and something that felt suspiciously like blood was dripping down his chest. His jaw was swelling up rapidly, and he had god knows how many bruises and scratches on his chest. He was afraid to even think about it.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered softly to her, like he was trying to placate some dangerous animal. It was true though. He really didn't want to hurt her, even if it was mostly because he thought she'd probably give all the pain back to him twice as bad. And on top of that, he wasn't allowed to use his wand outside of school. True, he could be pardoned if the event preceding the magic was life-threatening, but he really wasn't sure if being trapped in an elevator with a batty murder suspect _really _counted as life-threatening.

Apparently, he'd said the wrong thing, because she lunged for him, face twisting with rage this time, instead of fear. Startled, Albus reflexively spit out the first spell that some to mind _"Locomoto Mortis!" _he yelled, and she gasped as her legs locked mid-stride, sending her flying into his chest. She used her free hands to scratch at his face, and Albus dropped his wand in his haste to cover his eyes from the brutal nails.

He held her at arm's length, flinching away from her attack, and moments later he found the wind knocked out of him again as she rammed her head into his belly. Albus choked, trying desperately to force oxygen into his lungs, and cursing her in her head. _But, I thought she had the locomoto charm on her…? _His confused thoughts were cut off by the low ding of the lift as it settled to a stop.

"Level Two. Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services," the pleasant, mechanical voice of a witch echoed through the lift, leaving trails of pain in Albus' battered skull. The girl didn't spare him a backwards glance as she flew through the doors the second the gap was wide enough for her to fit through.

Had Albus had any air left to spare, he would have laughed. He was getting the last laugh, literally. She could run and fight like a starving hippogriff but there was no way in hell she was going to get past the entire forty-plus staff of the Auror Office, and the Magical Law Enforcement goons. No matter how thoroughly she'd bashed him, he'd won. Albus sank down to the floor, wheezing quietly, an arm wrapped around his diaphragm. Now that she was gone, he could surrender to the headache that had been threatening to drag him into oblivion since he'd gotten trapped in the lift. He was tired, more so than he could ever remember being in his entire life. He felt like he could rest for days, years.

_But you have to tell Dad what happened…._the little voice in the back of his head echoed. Albus ignored it, eyelids dropping dangerously. He'd find Harry in a second. _I'll just rest my eyes for a minute…just one minute, I swear._

His head slumped to his chest, body slack on the floor or the lift, as Albus' whole world went black.

* * *

"Well, I was just saying…"

"I'm not in the mood right now, Efren,"

"…you would think after a couple of years of _success _you would start to listen to me once in a while-"

"You shouldn't have-"

"-gotten off of her when you told me to? No shit, Sherlock,"

"I didn't have-"

"-to bring your 16 year old son around a dangerous criminal? Once again: no shit."

"If _you_ had just put her in a body bind in the first place, it would have been perfectly safe. I didn't know you were dumb enough to bring her in like _that_!"

"If you had assigned me to a competent team, maybe we could get something done, and she would've been contained!"

"Maybe if you weren't such a _bitch, _your team would actually listen to you once in a while,"

"Low blow, Potter."

"You would know." Harry growled back, sounding more like a child than he had in over two decades.

Albus' was slowly regaining consciousness. In fact, he'd been listening to his father and Efren rag on each other like teenagers for the past couple of minutes with some kind of groggy amusement. He wasn't dead, he knew that much already from the simple fact that his father hadn't attempted to decapitate Efren….yet. As far as their bickering went, this was pretty normal. He wasn't quite sure why, but something about Efren and Harry together made it impossible for them to be near each other without arguing. When they put their heads together, they were a deadly duo (in the most literal sense possible) but as soon as the action stopped they were at each other's throats. In fact, they reminded him of his Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione. However, when the Weasley's bickered, there was an underlying affection to it, no matter how loud they got. When Harry and Efren got at it, it just an argument. They didn't hate each other, dislike maybe, but not hate. They just bumped heads on every opinion anyone could ever have about anything. It was tiring to just listen to them.

Albus was given a final shove into full consciousness as one of the two – he would never learn which one – blew a raspberry that even a toddler would be proud of.

"Dedjagettir?" He mumbled, trying to sit up slowly. His whole body felt tender. Nothing hurt much, but he was a bit sore all over. He rubbed at his eyes with his hands, putting off having to open them. It was so cozy in the dark.

"Shh. Stay still," Harry's voice, switched tones quickly from his grumbly one that he had used with Efren to a soft, placating croon. A hand pressed down on Albus' chest, firm but gentle, easing him from his half-sitting position back to lying down. Albus allowed himself to be pushed down, but persisted in trying to speak. He cleared his throat painfully and coughed. His mouth felt like splintered wood on the inside, and his spit tasted like metal. It hurt to speak.

A glass of something warm was shoved into his hands, and he felt his father's grip on the middle of his back, lifting him up slightly so he could drink. _Make up your mind! Do you want me to sit up of lay down? _Albus thought to himself, gratefully gulping down what had turned out to be a glass of warm butterbeer.

"Don't baby him, Harry. He's fine," Efren grumbled in the background. _Somebody's in a very black mood today, _Albus noted as the cup was taken away from him.

"No thanks to you," the reply was sharp, and Efren made the wise decision to not snap back.

Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Albus tried again to speak. "Didja geh'r?" he asked, opening his eyes, wincing painfully as bright light filled his gaze. All the light was making his head hurt, but he'd had worse, not too long ago in fact.

"What'd you say, Al?" Albus rubbed a fist over his eyes and a blurry face appeared in front of him. He squinted. He _thought _that was his dad in front of him. He looked like his day anyways…well, the parts that he could see.

"Did you get her?" He tried again, this time the words coming out clearly.

"Who?" Harry _sounded _confused, but Albus couldn't be quite sure if it was genuine. He couldn't see the face in front of him clearly enough to know that.

"Her. The girl."

"Uhhh…" Albus' heart dropped into his stomach. She was running loose still? "Oh! Oh right. No, she's fine. She ran right into Cattleby. He panicked and stunned her, you know how he is," Albus grinned. Cattleby was a good Auror for the most unlikely reason. He was incredibly nervous, paranoid, and a bit OCD. It worked in his favor, however. His organization skills made him incredibly studious by nature, and he rarely forgot anything out of fear that he'd need the information later. He'd memorized the information he'd needed to become and Auror out of sheer habit, and his nervous tendencies made him suspicious and watchful. He was also incredibly jumpy, which worked for himbecause he had terrific reflexes when he got startled, which was often. Albus had tapped him on the shoulder once at a dinner party to ask if he was done with his plate and had ended up with a bat-bogey hex that put his Aunt Ginny to shame.

Satisfied that he hadn't gotten the shite beaten out of him for nothing, Albus found himself suddenly full of questions. "Where am I?" He glanced around, eyes only grasping at shades of brown blotches. "Why can't I see? Where'd you put the girl? How did I get in here?"

"Well first-"

"And why don't I feel like a Hungarian Horntail's chewtoy?" Albus interrupted, noticing for the first time that he did not, in fact, feel a meter away from death like he had a while back. He hoped he hadn't been out for long. He hated missing all the action, even if the action was incredibly painful.

Harry waited a second before answering, making sure that Albus wasn't going to interrupt again before he said anything. "Well, first of all you can't see because I have your glasses," he chuckled, and pressed the metal frames into Albus's hands.

"Oh."

"Efren and I took the next lift up after we saw that yours was going up. We got out not long after yours opened, and the girl ran past us-"

"Only because _somebody _was more worried about saving their precious baby than letting a potential dark wizard get away-" Efren snorted.

"-_she ran past us _and I got to you, carried you into my office, and Efren patched you up-"

"_He _wanted to take you to bloody St. Mungos for a few little scratches" Efren interrupted again, but Harry talked over her, ignoring her pointedly.

"-and you've been here ever since. You weren't out that long, just about a half an hour or so. And she's over there," Harry pointed somewhere over to the left, and Albus followed the direction he was pointing, shoving his glasses onto his face. True to his word, crouched in the corner was a small sack of grime he recognized all too well. She looked the same as she had a half an hour ago, except now her wrists and legs were bound by a thick metal chain. Realizing that she was being talked about, the girl lifted her head from where it had been buried in her arms and shot him a look so dark his blood ran cold. Albus looked away quickly, suppressing a shiver. _If looks could kill…._

He turned his gaze to Efren. She looked like her usual self, except that her long thick braid of blonde hair was sticking in all directions and quickly coming undone. She had a look of frustrated impatience on her face, and was sitting on the corner of Harry's desk like it was a pincushion.

"If you are _done _taking care of your son – who is _fine _by the way, like I told you he would be – can we please move on and let me do what I came here to do in the first place?"

"Which is…?" Harry asked, a suspicious frown on his face.

"I'm taking her in,"

"In _where?_"

"Wherever she needs to go to be tried for murder," Efren spoke slowly, leaning forwards and looking at Harry like he was a dumb toddler.

"WHAT?" Harry exclaimed, neck turning red. The girl's attention turned from Albus to Efren, and something like a crossbreed between a gasp and a sigh flew from her lips. Albus just sat there, kind of numb. He didn't really know what to feel.

"She used an unforgivable curse, Harry," Efren looked unconcerned, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I sent you to a muggle neighborhood to look into a bit of suspicious magic and you come back with a teenager?" Harry's voice was rising in pitch with disbelief.

"Bit of magic my _ass, _Harry Potter." Efren snarled back, "You sent Me, Gustus, and Liam out in the _middle _of the night to a ruddy muggle neighborhood. Suspicious is an _understatement. _When we got in the whole bottom floor was destroyed. _I fell on a dead body, _Potter." She paused for a second, pointer finger to her chin sarcastically. "Oh wait, that's right, I forgot. It was _two _bodies," Albus glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye. The boy-who-lived looked a bit sick. His father didn't like dead bodies. He thought it had something to do with Lord Voldemort, but his father hated to talk about it. "That little witch that you were just defending was holed up in a house by herself with two dead bodies. Was I just supposed to let her go?"

"But that doesn't mean she's a murderer Ef-" the end of Harry's sentence was cut off as Efren raised one finger for silence and shot him a murderous look.

"We didn't even know she was there until I turned around and she had my wand in Laim's face. She bloody tried to kill us, and almost did it to. If that's not bad enough, I brought her here and fought me every step of the way, and then attacked your son in an elevator," Efren rolled her eyes "So of _course _she's just a victim of circumstance. That explains why she's been running like a petty thief since I found her," there was the sarcasm again.

Personally, Albus thought that Efren had a point. Maybe from Harry's point of view, it seemed pretty far out there to accuse a teenage girl of murdering two full frown wizards, or even being capable of doing so. Albus and Efren however, had one little thing in common, and that was the fact that they'd both been attacked by her. Albus had no doubt that given a few more minutes time in that elevator she _could _have murdered him too. In his head, she was already clearly guilty. Maybe 20 years ago a child being accused of murder would have been unheard of, but after the Ministry found out exactly how many children had been Death Eaters during the war, all of that pity went right out the window. And what's more, if she didn't do anything why did she try so hard to run away? She was acting like exactly what she was: a captured murderer.

It seemed like Harry hadn't quite wrapped his mind around anything except the dead bodies. He looked a bit more on color, thankfully. He'd hate to see what people would write about in the papers if anybody found out that Harry Potter (also known as: The Boy Who Lived, The Vanquisher of Dark Lords, the Destroyer of Dark Objects, the youngest Head of the Auror Department in Wizard History, and The Hero of Wizarding Britain) had barfed in his office at the mere mention of a cadaver. "_Two _bodies? Did you identify them?" Harry asked, swallowing loudly.

Efren reached into a pocket of her robes and reached for a piece of something roughly the size of a sticky note. She tapped it with her wand once, and it inflated into a stack of parchments, held together by a Monster-Grip Clencher, similar to a miniature version of the rather animated Care of Magical Creatures book Harry had used in school. She tapped it again, muttering a spell under her breath and an identical copy of the file appeared, which she handed to Harry. Albus watched the exchange with mild interest. He kind of wanted a copy, but he wasn't dumb enough to ask if he could read ministry documents, and he supposed they were just going to say everything out loud anyways.

Efren sighed. "The deceased were identified as a Syracuse and Celeste Cassell. Married. Syracuse was a pureblood wizard from a "blood traitor" family; Celeste was a muggleborn, maiden name Flint. I couldn't find any Ministry Records of either of their parents, but they have immigration papers from the United States, which is probably why. They both had their wands on them at the time of death."

"In hand?"

"No. Found them in their pockets. His body was overlapping hers a bit, like he was defending her from something before they died but it's unlikely since their wands weren't out." she sounded bored.

Harry didn't reply, only swung around to the girl on the floor, who'd been watching the m expectantly, as if she knew they'd address her personally at some point. "Do you know them?" He asked her, studying her face. The girl met his gaze evenly, bright blue eyes narrowing slightly. She hesitated for a second, and then nodded twice, firmly. Her lips tightened into a grim frown.

Harry turned back to Efren now, "Did you find anything on her?" Albus felt a bit bad for the girl. They were talking about her like she wasn't even there. He hated it when adults did that to him, like he wasn't important enough to address directly.

"Nothing. She didn't even have a wand on her," Efren flopped the file down on the desk and stifled a yawn. She ran a hand down the back of her braid, making it messier than it had been before (if that was even possible).

"Did you even get her name?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Whoops. Sorry. I was too busy fighting for my life to make small talk. _My bad._" Efren replied dryly, rolling her eyes. Harry glared at her.

As interesting as this was, Albus found his attention slipping slightly from all of the professional topics. He sat op straighter on the couch, taking some of the weight off of his sore elbows. His eyes wandered the room curiously, looking some something more interesting to watch. Efren and Harry got pretty boring once you'd watched them argue half a million times. It was all too predictable. His eyes turned to the suspect in question. She was watching Harry Potter with those unnerving eyes of hers, a hint of curiosity flickering behind those bright blue orbs. _She's thinking….something…_ Albus muttered to himself inside of his head, thoroughly creeped out. _No, _he realized suddenly, _She's not thinking. She's calculating, plotting. _He'd seen that same look on various members of the Potter/Weasley Clan, and nothing good _ever _came of that look.

"What's your name?" Harry's voice cut through Albus' thoughts abruptly. For a second, he though his dad was asking him what his name was, until he noticed that Harry was looking at the girl. She raised her chin, proudly, meeting his gaze evenly. For a moment the room was silent, as she hesitated to speak. Albus was growing more suspicious by the second.

She opened her mouth to speak, and a choked came out, followed by a cough. She cleared her throat and winced, rubbing her neck with her hand. "Fa-" She paused and coughed, and then continued on, voice gaining strength as she spoke. "Faye Nixon Ondine Remvellius," her voice trailed off, and she hesitated again, this time glancing at Efren warily. "Cassell." She finished, voice wavering on that last word. If Albus didn't know better, he would have thought she looked scared.

Efren's eyes were sparkling now. She smiled a wolfish grin, and folded her arms over her chest, looking anything but bored. Albus glanced at his father. Harry's forehead began to wrinkle, and the ran a hand through the back of his hair nervously. Albus rather felt like he was the only one who didn't understand some magnificent joke, and his eyes darted from face to face, confused.

"You're related to the deceased?" Efren barked out, asking with the air of someone who had already guessed the answer. Harry looked sick again.

The girl hesitated again, and her eyes flickered from Harry, to Efren warily. She gave two more firm nods. "Yes," She breathed quietly, wincing away from the two ministry workers. She had a husky wine-and-cigarette voice and Albus couldn't help but wonder in the moment if her voice always sounded like that or if it was just a result of the coughing she'd done moment ago.

"How?" Efren asked quickly, staring at the girl like she was the next Boy Who Lived. "Related how?" There was another cold silence in the room, and Faye (Albus still called her "the girl" in his mind) avoided Efren's gaze, instead staring at her shoes. Albus watched in amazement as a single, clear teardrop wiggled out of her eye and ran down her face, leaving a clean trail in the wake of all of the dirt.

"They're my parents."

* * *

**Oh ho ho ho! And the plot thickens! Another cliffhanger, eh? :3 I know you hate them, but I just love writing them. I actually had a lot of trouble naming our little convict. She was originally going to be named Nokadorum, and then I changed it to Noka because Nokadorum Reminded me too much of Nymphandora Tonks. I was feeling okay with Noka and then I remembered that I loved the name Faye. It didn't really fit her name so while surfing the net last night I ran into the name Nix, and remembered that's also a name I used to use a lot. I liked Faye, cause it sounded like Fate, and I liked Nix A LOT but it sounded kinda…expected, you know? So I decided Nix could be one of her middle names, and kind of a nickname? I dunno, I like it. I also changed the chapter naming style. It's really hard to come up with chapter names that all start with "In which…" ….way harder than it looks. Hope you liked the chapter! And sorry for the long A/N! I hope you enjoyed reading!**


	4. The Slap Trick

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Fred Weasley would still be alive and well. Honestly, that was uncalled for D:**

**A/N: This chapter and the chapter after is (coming soon, I swear!) after it were originally going to be written as one single chapter but then I remembered that it'd been forever since I updated, so I figured, what the hell, why not just post this half anyways? I promise that all this Ministry/Murder Mystery stuff will only be going on for one more chapter (two, **_**maybe**_**). I'm extremely sorry it takes me so long to update. I live with two other people and all three of us are extremely tech-savvy and we're operating on one functional computer. I only get about an hour on the computer per dy, and some days I don't even get on at all. I promise I update as _soon _as I finish a chapter. If you're still with me from chapter one, you're the best, and if you're reading this for the first time then you're awesome as well! Enjoy!**

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The silence was so thick it made the air hard to breathe. Faye had made her first discernable facial expression of the hour; a slight wince tugged up the corners of her face and she was trying her best to twist her pointer finger nervously as the thick chains restricted her motor controls.

Efren had a toothy smile on her face, looking eerily out of place next to the malicious victory burning behind her gaze. Harry was turned a rather unflattering shade of green. His expression flickered between pity for Faye and a warning glare directed coldly at Efren. Albus, well he just looked confused. And he was _extremely _confused. His verdant eyes scanned the faces around him blankly, trying to figure out exactly what the hell just happened.

Nobody said anything for a while and Albus, who was feeling quite uncomfortable by that time, turned to Faye, face tightening in earnest. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly, not because he particularly liked (or cared) about her, but because in his mind there was really nothing else to say in response to the deaths of someone's parents. She was an orphan now, just like his father. To his surprise, she met his gaze and nodded at him briefly, all signs of her earlier expression wiped away behind a composed face. Despite how creepy he found her blank expression to be, especially paired with those unnerving eyes, Albus couldn't help the small smile that flickered hesitantly at the corner of his lips. Her mouth twitched for a second, and Albus thought for a fleeting moment that she was going to smile back. Instead, she looked down at her bound hands, frowning.

Efren began to clap slowly, the sharp sound echoing around the silent room. Even more confused than before, Albus furrowed his brows at her, turning around to watch the petite witch's antics. She had that look on her face, that odd mix between irrational anger and joy that made people look like they belonged in the loony bin. She looked like she knew something that he didn't and she was just ready to burst if she didn't say it. Whatever it was, he supposed Harry knew it too, and as usual he looked like was holding a negative opinion. They could never see eye to eye. Harry would die of guilt if he ever accidentally sent an innocent man to Azkaban, and would go through any amount of time and effort to ensure that he didn't. Efren on the other hand would rather put an innocent man to death than risk letting a guilty one go free.

_Oh Bullocks. I think I see where this is going. _Albus was beginning to get a feel for exactly what was going on. Just like he had before the whole lift incident, he suddenly knew without a doubt that things were going to get _really _bad in the next few minutes. He hovered his fingers over his eardrums, eying Efren warily in case she started screaming. _She's usually the one that starts it, _he reasoned to himself, thinking of how easygoing his father usually was. He and his father shared a glance; Harry's tinged with a gentle warning and Albus' wavering with anxiousness. He honestly didn't know _what_ was going to come out of Efren's mouth, that is if she ever stopped clapping and actually said something.

And eventually she died stop clapping, drawing the silence out like a performer on stage plays with the tension of the audience. "You," she began, pointing an accusing finger at Faye, "Are a criminal _mastermind." _She threw back her head and laughed shortly, throwing back her head. Fayes head snapped up for the first time since Albus spoke, and her eyes narrowed. "You murdered your own _parents," _Efren continued, clapping at random.

"Efren, don't be daft-" Harry began.

"Well, I don't believe it!" Efren continued, raising her voice to speak over Harry, who fell words were steadily increasing in volume. "What was it? Was a reformation of the Death Eaters? Another cult? Did you think it would be so easy? Did you think they could help you get out of this!" she made an offhanded gesture at Fayes reeking clothes and hair, and the girl sneered in response. "You thought it would be so easy. It would just be so simple, wouldn't it? Just go and get rid of a couple of mudbloods, and they'd let you in their circle. You'd be one of them, whoever 'they' are exactly. So you picked a family,"

"That isn't true-" Faye hissed, voice dangerously low.

"A 'filthy family'. APureblood and a mudblood together, eh. Couldn't have them producing mutts, right? And what's better, they were _immigrants!_" Efren was jumping up and down with joy now, bouncing on her toes with pure energy. Harry called out the young Auror's name, but she ignored him, volume and energy increasing with ever word she spoke.

"Damm it,Efren! Calm down a-" Harry said.

"_Bloody, Blinding, IMMIGRANTS. _No records of their families, no record of any children. So you offed them, and do you know how I know that?" Efren was a few mere inches from Fayes face, and the girl was struggling in her bonds, making strangled sounds in her throat. "I know because I got called. Because you, my friend, were the only child in sight and you still have the trace on you. Maybe they were supposed to pick you up and hide you after you did the deed, I don't know and I don't care, but I know you killed them. You took a _fake _name and pretended to be their daughter to get _sympathy _and you fought like hell the second I said 'Ministry of Magic' because you knew you'd gotten caught….oh don't cry, love. There's no shame in getting caught."

That last sentence had been taken the tone of a kind of a mocking croon. It would have been an incredibly thing cruel to say such a think of a child crying from grief, but whatever was going through Faye's head at the moment, Albus felt he could safely say that sadness was not included. Judging from the livid expression now flashing across her visage, she was more likely imagining twisting Efren's head until she her spine turned into a human corkscrew than grieving over lost loved ones.

Usually when Efren got like this they just let her go on and get it out of her system. She was a woman of strong, solid, opinions and believed readily in her right to speak her mind in any given situation. Everyone in the department knew that anything you would usually do to calm someone down would have adverse effects on her, as she was naturally rebellious and inclined to do the exact opposite of what you said just because she hated being told what to do. And what's more, placating her only helped to anger her.

But if anybody could shut Efren Eidelbroach up, it was his father. And shut her up he did. It happened so fast Albus didn't even see it. It seemed to him that today was one of those days where he missed everything because he blinked. He usually hated days like that, but then again him missing something by a split-second usually ended in him falling into a prank laid out by him by James, Albus guessed this wasn't _so_ bad.

He almost felt like laughing. Even though he'd missed the actual action, it was hard to guess wrong just how Harry Potter had managed to make the feisty younger female shut her gob. _I guess those seeker reflexes _do _actually have some kind of real-world purpose _the boy mused wonderingly. Usually he didn't care much for Quiddich, unlike the rest of the male counterparts of his extended family. But even he had to admit that only the kind of muscle control you get from a sport could enable his father to rise out of the chair so quickly. Efren was stunned, mouth agape. Her hand was clutching the side of her pale face, hand cradling her cheek tenderly. Even as Albus watched, he could see her cheek getting red. He kind of half-hoped that there was a pale handprint under there, somewhere. Just for good measure.

Yes, the Famous Boy-Who-Lived (Twice, really, but nobody ever remembered the second time in the battle of Hogwarts) had slapped a female Auror half his size in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. And as shocking as that sounds, even more so was the fact that it had actually _worked. _

_James is going to _die _when he finds out that he missed all of this! _Albus was almost giddy with delight. His older brother could never understand why Albus preferred staring at paperwork to going to quidditch games with their mother, Ginny Potter. Though she had quit playing for the Hollyhead Harpies soon after James' birth, Ginny was still very well known as a notable athlete in the Wizarding world. Her opinion was sought out for many of the _Daily Prophet _sports articles, and she made a point of going to every important game, usually bringing whoever wanted to go along with her. James was about as big of a quidditch fan as you could possibly get, and Albus suspected Lily only went along because she agreed with the Weasley women's saying that _every _guy looked better in a quidditch uniform.

Both James and Lily had had the same initial expectations of what going to work with their father would be like. For James, who thrived on action and chaos, it was more than disappointing to find out that going to work with the Man that survived the killing curse was – in his opinion – worse than watching paint job. Only Albus remained the constant Potter child at the ministry, and he lived for the moment like this one. The moments of raw emotion and action. They were few and far in between, but well worth the wait in his opinion.

Harry wiped his stinging hands on his jeans briskly, as if nothing had happened at all. Efren still looked a bit shell-shocked. Her chest heaved up and down slowly, and her eyes were wide. "Sorry," she breathed. Harry inclined his head in casual forgiveness.

Albus watched them, dumbfounded. _So apparently this isn't the first time he's had to slap her? _He wondered, not for the first time, exactly what went on in the Auror family when he wasn't around. Sometimes he felt like he knew everything there was to know about the most predictable of his father's coworkers, but every time he got too confident something like this happened and his whole theory got uprooted again.

"You said the deceased were originally from the United States, right?" Harry continued on. He was thumbing through the files Efren had handed him a few minutes ago, the picture of professionalism. Albus darted his gaze between Efren, who still had her hand to her cheek, and Harry, who was waiting patiently for her to recover.

Efren nodded slowly, pupils down to a normal size. "Yeah," she spoke airily and slowly, rubbing her cheek absently. Her shoulders were relaxed now, and she looked a bit like someone who'd just had a long relaxing bath. Albus stored this little tidbit of information away for future use. _Next time Efren's peeved at you, try slapping her. _Then again, maybe it was one of those many things that only Harry Potter could get away with doing.

"Can you Floo-call the Hogwarts Registry? Make sure there actually is a Faye Cassell, and see if she got a Hogwarts letter," Harry asked civilly.

"Bit old to be First year, don't you think?" Efren snorted.

"Not really. I see 5'5 Eleven year old children all the time," Harry rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Nevertheless," he continued in a more serious tone, "If she exists the should have received a letter at some point in time and they undoubtedly have it written somewhere. At least that way we'll know that the person she says she is exists. And if she's a squib, then we can just call this whole thing off," he grinned.

"I am _not!" _Faye called out, indignant. She was generally ignored, much to her displeasure.

"And see if you can get a hold of her birth certificate, too."

"From the AWB?" Efren Asked, looking mildly curious. Albus perked up a bit as well. He had learned a bit about the AWB, or American Wizarding Branch, in his History of Magic class. He was probably the only person in the entire school who actually mildly enjoyed Professor Binns' monotonous lectures. History was like slightly less indulging version of the fiction stories he devoured. He'd never been to the United States, but he wanted to someday.

"Mmm…yeah." Harry walked around her to sit behind his desk. He fumbled in a drawer and pulled out a quill and a small leather-bound notebook, placing the quill between his lips as he used both ands to flip through the books. "Oh! 'N bring back some truth serum….I think Cattleby has some in his office somewhere." He mumbled through his quill.

Efren saluted sarcastically, and left the room, muttering under her breath a bit. She hated being ordered around. Albus hid a laugh behind the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It seemed that Efren was recovering some of her earlier foul temper. _Note to self: slap-therapy is only a temporary fix. _


	5. Orphans to Orphans

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter :D**

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Harry was watching Faye out of the corner of his eye, and he was positive that she knew he was watching her. As adamant as he was about the fact that she was likely to be innocent, that was no reason to be stupid. Harry Potter, due to the history of his Godfather Sirius Black, generally ran the Auror Dept. on the theory that all persons are innocent until proved guilty, but where his children were involved her became quite the opposite. He'd seen firsthand what she _could _do to Albus given the chance, and he had no intent of ever giving her another chance.

"Comfy?" He asked her, smiling brightly.

Faye slipped her eyes to him slowly, appraising his facial expression carefully. "You must be joking," she replied dryly, shaking her shoulders so that the chains around her clanged loudly.

Harry coughed, "Sorry about that….your accidental magic kept disarming all of our charms. Merely a precaution," he offered her a hesitant smile as an apology. She eyed him suspiciously, and then went back to staring at her palms, expression dark. Albus was pulling on a strand of his hair again, a nervous habit of his. Harry felt as uncomfortable as his son, but he was wary to show it. Efren had already ruined his strategy of presenting a united front (she never agreed with anybody if she could avoid it) and he really didn't need to look nervous on top of that. The silence egged on for a bit, Albus twisting his hair Faye brooding, and Harry shuffling papers on his desk more for the sake of making noise to fill in the quiet than any practical reason.

"She won't find my birth certificate," Faye broke the silence. She never once looked up from her hands. Harry and Albus both froze and stared at her, and her cheeks reddened a bit under the combined intensity of the identical green gazes.

Harry put down the file in his hand, resting his elbows on the desk and leaning over it lazily. "And why's that?"

Faye didn't answer for a while. Her gaze darted over her hands deftly, and the bridge of her nose scrunched up a bit. Albus watched her thoughtfully. "Mum said it was because of my accidental magic when I was little. Was a few days old and they brought me to see my Aunt on my Mum's side of the family. Something happened," she paused, faltered in her words, and scrunched her nose again, this time tighter, "Something happened and it made my uncle real mad. 'E said all kinds of stuff, Mum said. 'E said he was going to murder us…of just me, I can't remember which. Mum was paranoid 'bout it, so she put my papers in the rubbish and burned 'em and then we moved across the world. I did get my Hogwarts letter though," she said the last sentence offhandedly.

"I've heard of a Faye Cassle at Hogwarts. What house are you in?" Albus piped up. It was a strangely normal question in an increasingly awkward situation.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts. Dad taught me at home," she shrugged.

That caught Harry's attention. It was true that not every wizard was schooled at Hogwarts or any of the other schools, but it was somewhat unlikely, especially after the war. People felt safe knowing that Hogwarts had protected and educated the majority of the greatest wizards in history, Harry and Dumbledore among them. It was a place of tradition and stability in a culture that was rapidly changing and becoming almost unrecognizable to families like the Malfoy's, who clung to old ideas. "I'm just curious, but why were you homeschooled?" Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to one side. "It's not really common anymore."

Faye was silent for a while. Harry was noticing that while she seemed to volunteer comments randomly, she thought very carefully before answering a direct question. He couldn't tell if it was because she was thinking about the answer, or if she was sorting out whether she felt safe enough to volunteer information. "Dad said that Hogwarts wasn't safe," she said finally.

"Hogwarts is the most impregnable place in the country," he replied, perplexed.

"Not really." She responded," You should know that better than anyone. Sirius Black got in. There was a murdering Basilisk in the school that no one knew about for centuries, Death eaters turned the Triward Cup into a portkey and murdered Cedric Diggory, Voldemort attached himself to the back of a professor's head and used him to steal the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort had two Horcruxes hidden there, during the war disobedient students were tortured by death eater professors and the Headmaster didn't do anything about it, and you yourself were given illegal detentions by a sadistic woman installed by the ministry to discredit you." She paused, and frowned, looking up at him knowingly, "I don't think I need to go on, do I?"

Harry cleared his throat and fumbled with the sleeves of his shirt. In present day he hated his fame just as much as he had as a teenager. It was incredibly unsettling for him to see that the events of his young life had become common knowledge, even to people not originally from the country. "Point taken," he replied stiffly.

"I read." she said by way of explanation. Harry nodded, understanding. A number of books had been written about those involved in the Second War. The most popular were several biographies by Rita Skeeter, and a tale of the entire first and second war written by Hermione Granger several years after the Battle of Hogwarts.

"It's not exactly uncommon knowledge these days," Albus added, trying to make his dad feel better. He was twisted sideways in his chair, forearm on the arm of the leather chair, and chin resting on his arm. Harry disliked the fact that his life was public knowledge as much now as he had as a child. Both Faye and Albus were looking at him with sympathetic expression. Harry squired a bit, trying to think of a way to change the topic. He didn't like that his interrogation had turned around to his personal problems.

Presently, Efren returned, kicking the door open with her foot so hard that it bumped the wall next to it. She slammed it closed in the same manner. Harry was more than slightly relieved of having the distraction. Faye, who seemed to have forgotten why she was there for a moment, looked startled, and then annoyed.

Efren flung a bunch of papers at Harry. "No birth certificate, but I have records of her mother's admission to Holly Manson's Hospital for a muggle operation to give birth, and a copy of Faye's Hogwarts letter," she folded her arms across her chest, the picture of determination. "But that doesn't prove that she's Faye Cassel."

Harry clapped his hands twice and held open his palms. Efren threw him a flash, and he shook it from side to side in his hand, wiggling his wrist. "That's what _this _is for," He strode up to Faye in business-like steps. He gently tipped her chin up with his thumb, and pressed the flask to her lips. She closed her eyes and downed the entire contents of the bottle, forcing herself to swallow the foul-tasting truth potion.

Bottle emptied, Harry crouched down to her level, looking her levelly in the eyes. When he spoke his voice was irritating slow and level. "What is your name?"

"Faye Nixon Ondine Remvellius Cassle."

"What are your parent's names?"

"Syracuse and Celeste Cassle."

"Did you murder them?" Efren interjected, cutting off Harry's next question.

Faye turned her head slowly to meet Efren. Harry saw the irritated expression on the girl's face. "I would never purposefully do anything to hurt either of them," she whispered, voice shaking a bit with contained irritation. "And if you think that I would, you've crazy, woman.,"

Harry met Efren's gaze and shook his head slowly from side to side. _We're not doing this right now, _he thought at her sternly, and she dropped her gaze. He wasn't going to interrogate Faye, not today anyways. The strange wording of her answer to Efren's question was not lost on either Auror, but even if she had done something, it was already very clear that it was an accident, or else she could have had to tell the truth. The poor girl was an absolute mess, and she's just lost both of her parents in one fatal swoop. She was in no state for a full interrogation. Maybe tomorrow, or after the funeral. ..whenever it was.

He was soaked through with sympathy for the child. He'd lost his parents before he ever had a chance to know them. He couldn't even imagine what it would feel like if he'd know them for his whole life only to lose them. Even the pain of losing Sirius, the closest thing he'd ever had to family, was nothing compared to that. He sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair. He wanted to get this over with.

"Have you been truthful with us up to this point, Faye?" he asked. He had opted for covering everything in one question rather than stringing it out for a few more minutes.

"Yes…sir," Faye affirmed, nodding. With a lazy flick of his wand, Harry dissolved the chains binding her body. Efren let out an angry gasp at that but she didn't say anything after Harry silenced her with a disapproving frown. Harry rubbed a hand over his face. He was suddenly extremely tired. Faye stood up, rubbing her wrists, which were barked with red indentations of the chains. She winced as she rubbed them. "Am I free to go?" she asked, looking so hopeful that it brought another stab of pain to Harry's chest. Efren looked insulted at the very idea that Harry would just let her walk out of the ministry.

"Probably not" he replied, smiling apologetically. Faye seemed to wilt a bit, but she shrugged it off, face returning to neutral. "How old are you?" he asked. Faye shot him a pained look.

"Can I have the antidote?" she asked, grimacing.

"Not until you answer that," he grinned back.

Faye fidgeted a bit, looking more uncomfortable that Harry had ever seen her. She mumbled something under her breath, and then said louder, "I'll be sixteen in November," she replied.

"Then I can't let you go without a guardian who is of age. Are you in contact with any of your relatives?"

Faye tense and shook her head. "I don't even know who they are. Mum cut all ties with her family, and Dad got burned off his family tree. They didn't…approve," she replied. Harry shook his head, understanding. America was decades behind the Ministry when it came to equality between muggles and purebloods. Harry was actually quite pleasantly surprised that Faye's parents had been brave enough to defy social taboos and get married, much less have a child.

Harry massaged the bridge of his nose, tightly. God knows how long it would take to locate a single wizard's family with no leads except for a last name. If the Black's were any indication, anything linking her father to her family would have been destroyed, and with so many muggles in America finding her Mother's relatives would been even more difficult. Flint wasn't exactly a rare surname.

Harry couldn't just leave her in his office overnight, and he certainly couldn't just let her run off because they couldn't find a relative this very moment. He had no doubt in his mind that she would be even harder to get a hold onto the second time around. Harry mushed his hands with his face, not knowing quite what to do. Albus glanced wildly from face to face, trying to assess the situation. Harry had almost forgotten his son was in the room. Albus was so naturally observant and quiet. Even before he could talk, Albus had been a quiet baby. No speaking, not wiggling, just content to peer up with those green eyes and memorize the patterns on the ceiling, or look through the bars of his crib to watch his family. Not much had changed in the past decade and a half.

Faye, however, was starting to see exactly where this conversation was going. "You don't have to look for them," her voice was getting higher, a bit panicked. "It'll take forever. My parents paid of the house, and we have enough savings to last for a few years. I won't leave the country or anything, I swear. I've looked for my family a couple of times. Trust me, _you can't find them. _And they wouldn't want me anyways, so why bother…" she trailed off, apparently running out of reasons why they should let her go.

"Perhaps you didn't look hard enough," Efren sneered. She was still rather pissed off that her murder investigation had turned sour. Harry, however, was examining Faye's face. He knew that look. Hell, he'd worn that look on his face more times than he could count. His friends knew it well. It was the "Dursley expression," for lack of a better name. Harry Potter made that face at the very mention of the Dursley's up until his 17th birthday. It was the look of someone who knew there were going somewhere they weren't wanted, and they would rather rot than go back

"We could always give her a temporary holding cell as Azkaban for a few weeks," Efren offered hopefully. Faye gasped audibly. Harry could see her shoulders trembling slightly, and she clenched her fists.

"But I didn't do anything!" Faye shrieked.

"Oh, don't worry. They don't use demetors anymore, dear," Efren responded casually with false sweetness. Obviously, she was still convinced that Faye was a murderer. There were few things Efren hated more than guilty criminals that got off on technicalities. Harry shot her a dark look and Efren went silent, holding her palms up in surrender.

"Nobody's going to Azkaban. I just need a moment to _think,_" he snapped, frustration making his temper short. Harry sat down in his desk chair, spinning around with his pointer fingers pressed to his temples.

_There is a really simple solution to this. I just need to _look _for it. _Harry darted his eyes around the room. His gaze rested on Faye, who was staring back at him just as intently. He took in her rugged appearance, the dirt under her nails, and the fear in her icy eyes. She looked like someone who's life had fallen apart around them, and it more or less had in the last few days. Her parents were dead, she was among strangers, and now her future was as uncertain as everything else. She didn't even know where she would be sleeping tonight, or if she'd ever spend another day in her own home.

He felt some kind of duty to her, if for the fact that they were both orphans now. Perhaps Hermione was right when she'd said that he had a "saving people thing." He knew he wouldn't feel quite right unless he made sure that she was okay. He wouldn't make the move Dumbledore made. Dumbledore's decision to leave Harry with his Aunt's family had denied Harry a loving childhood. He had learned from the people before him that some of the worst decisions are made with the intent to do good.

First and foremost, she'd have to be safe. At this time he'd discarded the possibility that she'd murdered her own parents. That meant that whoever _had _killed them was still on the loose, and possibly looking for her as well to kill a witness. Because of her bloodline, he'd have to leave her with someone who wasn't sensitive to half-bloods or muggles. The pureblood maniacs still existed, but since the public view had swung in the other direction most of them kept their opinions to themselves for their own social safety. He wanted her to be in the kind hands of capable wizards who would watch out for her and treat them as one of their own.

In the end, it wasn't Harry that found the solution, but Albus. The boy had been watching everything going on, and had reached somewhat similar conclusions. Somewhat hesitantly, he stood up and put a hand on Harry's arm.

"Dad, she could stay with us," he said quietly. "I mean, just until you find her somewhere else to stay."

Efren and Faye's eyebrow's shot up at the exact same time. Harry looked at his son, surprised. "You want her to stay with us? She almost put you in the hospital, mate," He stifled a chuckle into his fist. He'd been horribly worried about Albus when he'd seen the extent of the damage, but it was obvious that he was fine, and the obvious hilarity of the situation was setting in.

"And she murdered her parents," Efren added, stubborn as ever. Harry ignored her.

"Yeah…Dad. About that…" Albus ruffled the back of his hair awkwardly. "Can we keep that between us?"

Harry grinned knowingly. "Don't worry. I won't tell James you got beat up by a girl," he turned his attention back to the current issue, mulling over what Albus said. Faye would be safe with them. Ginny and Hermione were _extremely _capable wizards, the latter being the best student Hogwarts had seen in a long time. Harry and Ron were both Aurors, and therefore well-versed in most magical subjects. Arthur and Molly Wealsey had protected their grandchildren for decades, and Molly had single handedly taken down one of Voldemort's most dangerous supporters, Bellatrix Lestrange. There were few places he could think of that would be safer than his own family. It was absurd, really, to even consider it. But how could he not? And who better to look out for her than the person in charge of her case? The more he thought about it, the more sense it made.

"You're not seriously considering it, are you?" Efren exclaimed, horrified.

"Do you have a better idea? If so I'd _love _to hear it, Efren,"

The lady auror let out a string of half-finished sentences and then threw her hands up in the air. "You lot are _insane_. I'm done. I can't watch this!" she left the office in a huff, slamming the door shut behind her. Harry didn't even blink. He'd been wondering how long it would take for her to finally storm out. She'd lasted longer than he'd expected this time around.

"So I guess it's settled then. You're coming home with us," he threw an arm around Albus and squeezed him gently, grinning. Faye looked a bit shell-shocked. Her mouth hung open slightly and she opened and closed it twice. She opened it once more, looking like she was going to disagree, but though better of it and nodded.

"Okay," she said softly.

Harry gave Albus a gentle push. "Well, there's no reason to stick around the office, now is there? Albus, get your stuff. We're going home a bit early today." He paused thoughtfully. "I guess I can take you around your place tomorrow, Faye, to pick up some necessities. Is that okay?" the girl nodded stiffly in response. Harry eyed her. _She's getting a nice, long, shower the second we get home, _he decided. He was going to take the car to get home. If nothing else, it'd give him time to figure out what he was going to say when he came home with a strange child.

"Dad?" Albus asked, looking worried.

"Huh?"

"You know Mum's going to lose it when we get back, right?"

Harry sighed and rolled his shoulders. There was no way to mentally prepare yourself from a face off with Ginny Weasley. She was every bit as short-tempered as her older brothers, and most likely more intelligent. The chances that she would take this well were slim to none. It was going to be a long, long evening. "I know." He replied quietly. He was already dreading the next few hours at the Potter house.

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**A/N: See, look! That didn't take so long, did it? I've had about enough of the ministry, haven't you? Next chapter is at the Potter house :D Wish Harry luck, he's going to need it!**


	6. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series and I'm not making any money from this story. Rock on, J.K.R :D**

**Sorry guys, had a bit of an issue with the chapters messing up (that's what I get for fixing a few errors!) but it's all fixed now…I hope.**

"Any idea of what I should expect?" Faye spoke for the first time since Harry had given her the antidote to the truth serum. Albus glanced at her from where she was sitting on the right window seat next to him. She looked tired and gaunt, as if pure fear had been holding her together before. Actually, he corrected himself, it's fairly likely that she _was _running on pure adrenaline. He waited a moment before answering, wondering if she was talking to him or his father. She glanced at him expectantly after a moment. _I guess she meant me then._

"You can be sure than James is going to be a jerk about…" he trailed off a bit, not wanting to mention her dead parents. She nodded stiffly. "He's my brother; the eldest by a year, so he's 16. He looks a lot like me minus the glasses, but I'm getting contact lenses soon. He's a bit insensitive but he doesn't mean anything by it. And then there's Lilly, My sister. She's 13. She's a ginger like my Mum." He trailed off a bit, thinking of what else to say. "I dunno what she'll make of you though. She tends to make up her mind about people really fast and she's stubborn as a Hippogriff. And then there's my Mum-"

"She used to play quidditch, didn't she?" Faye interrupted. Albus nodded awkwardly. Like Harry, he could never really get used to having people know random things about his family. It had been that way since the day he was born, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Yeah. She's got 5 brothers too. She'll be pretty pissed when we get back-but don't take it personally. She'll blame Dad, not you."

Harry made a face in the rear-view mirror. "Don't remind me," he said, "I'm trying to think happy thoughts."

"And then there's my Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione and their two kids Rose and Hugo, they visit a lot. And then my other cousin Fred is best friends with James, so he may be around from time to time.

"What are they like?" asked Faye. If her facial expression was anything to go buy, she wasn't very interested in the conversation, but she kept asking questions, so Albus just went on answering.

"Well Rose…she's…a bit eccentric,"

"Among other things," added Harry, stifling a chuckle while keeping his eyes on the road.

"Well, yeah," admitted Albus, "She's been my best friend since we were babies. She's a bit…hard to get used to."

"He means she's completely lost all common sense," Harry injected once again, eyes sparkling with mirth. Faye glanced at him oddly, looking confused. _Maybe she didn't know the Boy Who Lived had a sense of humor, _Albus reasoned, catching the glance she threw at his father. Sometimes it was hard for him to remember that his dad had had to deal with death ever since he was a baby. How could he lose so many friends and still be so happy? In fact, his Uncle Ron, his father, and his Uncle Fred were not only the three funniest people he knew, but they had each lost at least one member of their family in the Second War. _Funny how that works out. _

"And Hugo's pretty easygoing. He's really good at games. The kid had serious strategy skills. Their Mum's really smart, so they both are like child geniuses. You can't tell Rose is gifted though. She has the brain but hates doing work."

"Right, right, Hermione Granger. She's brilliant. Makes sense that she would have smart kids too." Once again, Albus had the uncomfortable tightening in his stomach. "I've read her book." Faye turned her ice-like gaze to Albus, and the boy couldn't help but feel like she was analyzing him. "Anybody else?" she asked with a sigh, slouching down in her seat so that the seatbelt strap was touching her chin. Albus was beginning to think that her voice was naturally like that; sultry with a rough edge. He rather liked it. Perhaps because he'd never met a girl with a voice like that before. It was threatening and compelling at the same time.

Albus thought for a second. "Teddy might stop by," he said, grinning fondly at the thought of his pseudo-brother.

"Who?"

"My Dad's best friend Lupin and his wife Tonks died in the Battle at Hogwarts," Harry explained, a bit of a bitter edge to his voice. "When Teddy was born, Lupin asked me to be his Godfather. Teddy lives with his Grandmother- Tonks' mom, but he visits a lot….less now that he and cousin Victoire have a flat together,"

"His hair's blue," Albus supplemented, throwing his two cents into the story, "well…most of the time anyways."

"Metamorphmagus." Faye responded, stating it as a fact not a question. Albus didn't even bother to nod. "And judging from the size of the Weasley family, you have a bunch of Weasley uncles with a ton of ginger kids as well?"

Albus shrugged. "More or less, yeah,"

Faye let out a long deep sigh. She pressed her face against the car door, face out of Albus' view. After a moment she turned back to face the front and rubbed a hand over her face, succeeding in smudging her features with dirt even more so that before – if that was possible.

"Oh _goody."_

The Potter house was large but modest, and nowhere near being the giant sprawling mansion that most people – and undoubtedly Faye – had assumed it would be. The potters live in Killywig, a wizard town not far from the Burrow. When James was just a baby, they had lived elsewhere, but after their son's powerful baby magic started to manifest itself, it became difficult for them to stay.

The house had multiple levels – three to be exact – and a sprawling back yard with an ancient oak tree. The house was mainly blue-black, with stone accents, and a wide front porch. It featured many large windows, and a single round window in the center of the attic, where the roof peaked. It was unostentatious but beautiful, and a welcome sight to Albus, who had had quite enough new experiences for one day. It felt nice to be somewhere where he understood everything once again.

For Harry, however, the house just brought on new stress. He was hoping that Ginny was out working or possibly had taking one of her usual visits to her mother's house. Between arguing with Efren all day, having his son brutally attacked, and bringing home another kid, he was hoping for a few hours without utter chaos going around.

"Ginny?" Harry opened the front door and peered inside, listening. He held out a hand for Faye and Albus to stay where they were on the porch and ducked inside the house. A few seconds later he reappeared, and waved them in, his relief evident on his face. "She's out, thank god,"

He ushered the two teenagers inside, closing the door behind him slowly. Moments later, however, it was apparent that Harry's briefing of the area had not been very thorough, as the sound of heavy feet echoed through the house. Harry started, Albus jumped, and Faye remained emotionless as the slender figure of James Potter appeared at the top of the staircase in the entryway. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that slumped as if he had just thrown them on, and they sagged a bit so that the top of his boxers showed. He was shirtless – _like he knew we'd have guests, _Albus thought amazed. _But then again, maybe not, _he corrected himself, noting the sweat pants. When there were girls around James was notorious for finding _any _excuse to show as much skin as possible. Five years of quidditch looked good on him, and he never let any one forget it. Both Potter boys had inherited their father's messy black hair, James looking even more messy than usual. _Probably just woke up, lazy git. _

Faye turned her gaze between the two brothers, brow furrowed. She was beginning to see what many people already knew – that James and Albus were nearly identical in appearance, eye color, muscle mass, lack of glasses, and haircut aside).

They were most opposite in personality. Albus was the one people came to tell their secrets too. He was intelligent, observant, intuitive, and indulgent. James on the other hand, despite looking extremely similar to his brother was the one people approached for a bit of fun or a good snog. It confused the Gryffindor girls to no end. You could almost hear their thoughts when the two siblings were in close vicinity to each other: _"They look exactly the same…but for some reason I want to drag James into an empty broom cupboard and Albus doesn't interest me at all…"_

But Faye wasn't wearing that bewildered frown he'd seen so often. She looked like she was concentrating hard on both of them. He squinted to analyze her expression closer but any trace of emotion washed from her face in a heartbeat, like she'd never moved a muscle. Albus felt a bubble of irritation pop in his stomach. He wasn't quite sure why, but that blank face of hers pissed him off to no end.

"What's that?" James yawned and ran a hand quickly across the back of his neck.

"It's a who, not a what," Albus chuckled, remembering that he'd though the same thing when seeing Faye for the first time. Had that just been an hour ago? And now she was at his house? _This is insane, _Albus thought, trying to wrap his brain around the idea. He'd wanted excitement, hadn't he? He just never knew excitement would change everything so quickly…

"Actually, it's a she," Faye spoke for the first time since arriving, giving James a sarcastic wave. She barely made eye contact, and when she did it was lazy, like she was looking at him _just _to prove that she wasn't afraid to meet his eye. "Faye," she added shortly, tugging on the corner of her shirt impatiently.

"Faye had a…family emergency and she needed somewhere to stay for a while so I offered to have her stay here as a guest," Harry explained slowly, trying to find words to sugarcoat the situation.

"My Parents got murdered and I don't have any living locatable family members so he didn't have any choice but to bring me here," Faye supplied, earning an exasperated gaze from Harry.

James scratched at the rim of his ear, cocking his head to the side and grinning at her. He had his father's crooked grin. "Murdered? You don't look very sad," he replied. Albus winced and shot a worried glance at Faye. _Insensitive, indeed. _She just shrugged. It seemed that nobody except Albus particularly cared that James was half-naked.

"My parent's aren't only their death. Dying is just something that happened to them. One thing. I refuse to mourn an event. I'd rather enjoy happier memories." She narrowed her bright eyes, appearing wistful for a moment. "I'll see them again."

"Poetic," James yawned again. "You sound like my sister," he added, and without waiting for a response he tromped down the stairs and past them into the kitchen. Seconds later the trio could hear the sound of a cupboard opening. "Did Uncle Ron drink the last butterbeer again?"

Harry sighed, running his hand through be back of his hair. The gesture was so like the one James had made moments ago that it was uncanny. "Al, can you help Faye get cleaned up? Take her to Lily's bathroom. I have to straighten up a bit." Albus nodded. He was very familiar with his Dad's routine to sweeten Ginny up. Coming home to a clean house and a finished dinner usually placated Ginny enough to guarantee the least amount of hexing. Albus saluted his father with mock intensity and lead Faye upstairs. He tried to steer her with a gentle hand on the small of her back but she shrugged him off – violently, but not unkindly.

Lily's room was that of a typical teenage girl. It was relatively large, as all of the rooms in the Potter house were. She had a full sized oak bed, with dozens of pillows and a large rug on the floor sporting a flower-like design. The room also sported a large dresser as well as a closet and a desk that had so much parchment piled on it that it was unlikely to have been used functionally in a few weeks. Closest to the door was a waist-high stout bookshelf, which Faye stooped over to inspect upon entering the room. She picked up a well-worn copy of _Witch Weekly _that was laid over a line of novels. In bold red letters on the cover was the title "Hermione Granger: Witch of the Year" and below it a large image of the witch in question, signing a long sheet of parchment with a half-grin framed by her thick hair. The smiling Hermione finished signing and held up the parchment victoriously, beaming widely, eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. Faye grunted and returned the magazine to it's proper place.

"Um…I guess you can look through her clothes…find something that looks like it fits," he wondered, out of innocent curiosity, what she looked like under all of that sludge. Her current attire gave no significant clues. Faye nodded and opened up the dresser, rummaging through it briskly.

"Wooooow," she sarcastically whispered to herself, drawing out the "o" and chucking a bit, Albus waited for her to explain.

"What?" he inquired when she didn't. She either ignored him or was too preoccupied to hear him, and he got no reply. Usually he was one to enjoy companionable silence, but this silence was anything but enjoyable. Faye was barely paying attention to him and yet he felt like she was judging him, like she expected something from him that they both knew he would never be able to give her. She was – for lack of a better word – intimidating. Albus perched on his sister's bed while she selected a blue v-neck and a pair of jeans. She asked him for a towel curtly, and he reached up to the top shelf in his sister's closet to her get one, placing a matching washcloth on top. He handed it to her, avoiding her gaze.

"Sorry about James. You know, back there. He's just…like that."

Faye shrugged. "I kind of like him." That irritated Albus for some reason, though once again he didn't quite know why. "Your dad's pretty decent too. He's…not what I thought he'd be."

"Huh?"

"I mean…he's a normal guy considering he's a hero and all," she elaborated.

"Oh," was all Albus could think to say. Faye passed the towel from hand to hand and took a few steps towards the bathroom that was connected to Lily's bedroom. "Wait," he burst out. She halted and turned her eyes to him, looking over her shoulder. "What about me?" he asked. "What do you think about me?"

Faye turned around slowly to face him. She eyed him up and down with a critical eye. He searched her face for a reaction and found none. After staring at him just long enough to make him squirm, she met his gaze squarely. She blew a puff of air out of her nose and turned back around and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with an air of finality.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Albus shouted at the closed door, throwing his arms wide with irritation. Instead of an answer, all he heard was shower water.

Albus smashed his face with the palms of his hands, dragging them down to pull on his face in exasperation. "I don't understand her," he moaned.

Albus, trying his best to avoid helping his Father clean up, sat down on the pastel paint-splattered comforter on his sister's bed and waited. He didn't know exactly why he wanted to wait in the room. He could very well have gone to the loft that was his bedroom and waited there. Well, that was a lie. He knew exactly why but he wasn't too keen on dwelling on that right now. He wanted to be the first person to see her. He hoped she wasn't a ginger – he knew so many that he could never date a girl with red hair –_not that he was planning on dating her_- simply because he associated the color with family. _And it's not like Hogwarts needs any more ginger Weasley children. _

And more importantly, he wanted to see her before James did. He didn't mind being compared to James. Everybody did it, even he did. What Albus hated was being one-upped by his brother. It was like there was something genetically connected with the name James. He only knew of two people with the name James Potter: his brother, and the grandfather he was named after. And for some irritating reason both were the most impossibly popular people in the entire history of Hogwarts. Albus couldn't say much about James Potter I but James II was the most insensitive, aggravating jerk he'd ever met. He never took _anything _seriously, made fun of everything and everyone, and was hopelessly flirtatious and for some reason _everybody loved it. _Fifteen years living with him and Albus couldn't see what the big deal was. He would jump in front of a killing curse for James, but it was all too much sometimes. Living in the shadow of your father – he was on a chocolate frog card for the love of Merlin - was bad enough. Having to live in the shadow of your older brother as well was just unnecessarily cruel.

_But I'm not bitter. _No, it was hard to be bitter about something that'd been happening since as far back as he can remember. It wasn't that Albus wasn't funny, or friendly, he knew that. It was just that James was _more. _James was more in every way with a little something nobody could name but everyone knew about. _Let him have his people. I'm happy with Rose, Lor, and Ly. I don't need anybody else. _He didn't need Faye but he felt some odd need to make himself _more _to her. She was weird and interesting and even if they never became friends (and he was aware that they probably wouldn't) he wanted to be her favorite Potter out of the bunch. He didn't know why, he just wanted to. He wanted it wish the same emotion he felt when he knew he was closer to the other Auror's than any of his siblings.

"Albus," her voice was still rugged, even after the steam of the shower. "Do these jeans fit your sister?" she asked through the closed bathroom door, moments after shutting off the shower. Albus was jolted out of his thoughts and into the present.

"Uuuuuh…I think so?" he had no idea what his sister wore. He never paid much attention, and anything that wasn't as flamboyant as Rose's wardrobe failed to catch his interest.

"She needs to get an ass," came the dry response. Somehow she sounded like she was accusing him. _Well is that my fault? _Albus thought, instead of saying it out loud like he wanted to. "I swear I saw a pair of slightly bigger shorts somewhere in the drawer…can you get it for me and push them under the door?"

Albus knew his sister well enough to know that whatever shorts Faye was talking about weren't any bigger than the jeans she took with her. Lily had read in witch weekly that petite witches shouldn't wear baggy clothing because it makes them look like they're swimming in fabric…or something like that, he couldn't really remember. Whatever it was, it had made Lily refrain from wearing anything that wasn't snug on her body. He dashed across the hall to James' room and pulled a pair of khaki shorts with drawstrings off of a shelf instead, and shoved it under the door.

He was worried that she'd be angry that she brought him something else instead of the shorts (the weirdest things seemed to irritate her) but instead he heard the satisfying rustle of fabric. Feeling smug, he flopped back down on the bed, lying on his back with an arm flung over his eyes. Every few moments it would dawn on him how quickly his day had gone from normal to absolutely mad. _It all gets interesting all of a sudden – just like in the books. _He heard, in the general silence of the area, the click of the cabinet in the bathroom opening. He sat up, fully prepared to make some comment about Faye stealing his sister's stuff, when the bathroom door opened. The first thing he noticed, strangely, was the fact that she had his sisters tin of Weasley's Insta-Dry Cream in her mouth and was smearing it through her hair, which was transforming from dripping to silky only moments after application.

"I love this stuff. George Weasley's a freaking genius," she murmured through the metal container, and flipped down so that her head was by her knees for a moment and then stood upright once again, rubbing the Weasley Wizard Wheeze's product in the whole time. Albus took advantage of her momentary distraction to study her without interruption.

She was short with virtually no breasts and muscular legs. She wasn't willowy and thin like he had expected from someone her height, but rather a healthy-looking bit of weight on her with hips of a woman twice her age. Free from the fine layer of dirt, her skin was a sun-kissed golden color, and her hair was the color of chocolate, long enough to sit comfortably on her chest in thick waves. Her eyes dominated her face, and her nose was slight and thin. Severely high cheekbones gave her quite a cat-like appearance that was more threatening than unpleasant, though he wasn't sure if she was entirely pleasant-looking either. None of her features were conventional, and aside from her hair and eyes Albus couldn't really find anything about her he would describe as beautiful. Maybe he had just had high expectations? To be honest, some small part of him had been convinced that she was a gorgeous model underneath all of that sludge. _Note to self: It only works like that in bad fiction. _

_She does have a nice arse though, _he noted without much interest. Albus was more interested in breasts, Heather Norman's breasts, to be exact. _But now really isn't the time to be thinking of that, is it? _he scolded himself.

"Uh, you look…" Albus shrugged and made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, realizing that he couldn't think of a truthful adjective that wouldn't possibly irritate her.

Surprisingly, she chuckled a bit, though he was pretty sure she was laughing _at _him and not _with _him. "I'm just happy to be clean" she smirked, one corner of her mouth lifting up humorously. Albus was a bit taken aback, realizing that he'd never seen her smile before, nor had he seen her in such a good mood. _I guess I'd be in a good mood too, if I just got all of that sludge off me. But then again, maybe she just naturally swings from bad tempered to nice. It's not like I know. _He wanted to know, though. She was being so bubbly he almost forgot that she'd beat the shit out of him two hours ago. Almost.

He eyed her legs warily. They looked a bit chubby from a distance, but he had no doubt that it was all muscle. He found it hard to not remember how fast she'd been at the Ministry. It was like something out of a nightmare.

"How _did _you get so dirty in the first place?" he asked, curious.

"It's easier than you think," she smirked again, but this time with less inflection. She sniffed the air, closing her eyes for a moment as she inhaled. "Food." She announced, eyes lighting up. Albus blinked. No matter what she looked like, nobody could say her eyes were anything short of radiant.

He sniffed experimentally and found that she was right. The scent of fish and something sweet assaulted his nose. Albus recalled with regret that he'd never gotten to finish his sandwich from earlier. His father was a surprisingly good cook. Albus didn't know it, for his father didn't like to talk about his early childhood, but he'd spent a fair amount of time cooking for the Dursleys. Molly Weasley's superb expertise in the kitchen had obviously not been passed on to Ginny, who could barely boil water without making a mess.

"Sweet Merlin I'm going to starve to death…" she murmured to herself, holding her belly as she left the room, bare feet making slapping noises in the hallway. Albus, looking a bit confused, went to follow her, realizing moments later that she'd completely distracted him from the fact that she never answered his question.

He eyed her back warily as he walked behind her. Had he really fallen for it that easily? _Sneaky little minx. _Gotta_ watch out for this one._

**Not entirely happy with this chapter…it was going to be longer but It seemed like the chapter wanted to end here. James is a bit of a character. I love him :)**

**Sneaky little minx indeed. **


	7. You Better

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter? Not mine. Faye? NOCANHAS.**

**Theres really no excuse for this chapter being so late. I had a severe case of writers block and some serious procrastination issues to get through. I'm so sorry! I don't care how long it takes me to get these chapters out, I **_**will **_**finish, I swear. Its not my favorite chapter, I'll be honest with you, but it's the best I could muster up. For some reason this scene was extremely hard to write. Thanks for being so patient :)**

Things had been quiet for a while. Albus' life almost felt normal. Almost. James was less shaken up by the whole thing than Harry and Albus were, but then again Harry had to worry about getting hexed by Ginny, and Albus was a bit concerned about having the tricky bird that almost killed him living with them until god knows when. James, as usual, had no shame. He sat in what Lily called the "breakfast nook" with Albus, watching Faye as she swung from side to side, munching on the baby carrots Harry had used to placate her until the food was done.

Faye checked out the spacious kitchen and open living room with pensive eyes, shoving carrot after carrot into her mouth without even thinking about it. James was doing much the same thing, except he had a soda instead of plate of orange vegetables (turns out Uncle Ron _did _drink all the butterbeer) and he was watching Faye with his head tilted to one side, like he was working out a particularly tricky question on a quiz. And in case anybody was wondering, yes, he was still shirtless. Maybe in another household that would have seemed weird, but the Potter's were used to James laid-back displays of partial nudity, and nobody really batted an eyelash.

It took all of ten minutes for James Potter to spoil the somewhat peaceful, if not slightly awkward, moment. Naturally, being a nuisance was what he was best at.

"You should learn to chew with your mouth closed. That's not very ladylike, you know." James drawled; his chin resting on his hands as he watched Faye inhale the carrots one by one. Faye paused in her furious munching, stared at James for a second, and then took a slow, exaggerated bite out of a carrot, opening her mouth wide and rolling the food around in plain view for a moment, before rolling her eyes and returning to eating at a normal pace.

James burst out laughing, and Albus shot Faye yet another apologetic look from across the table. James, still chuckling, rammed his knuckles on the counter. "You're spunky, I like it,"

"You're obnoxious, can't say it's appealing." Faye responded, however her tone was dry instead of angry. It seemed like she didn't much care what James said as long as she was getting fed. _I thought your stomach was supposed to shrink if you missed a couple of meals, _Albus thought, watching as she chewed her way through the Potter's vegetable stores. _When's the last time she had anything to eat? _He was extremely tempted to remind her to save some room for dinner, but thought better of it. She was in a somewhat benevolent mood at the moment, and he really didn't want to be the one to irritate her again. Even her banter with James seemed more sarcastic than angry. He just hoped it would stay that way. He knew all too well how vicious she could get if provoked.

James crossed the kitchen in two steps, and shifted next to Albus so he was across from Faye. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyebrows raised comically. "Nice bark. How's the bite?

"Keep talking, maybe you'll find out."

James completely ignored the threat and instead took a moment to look Faye over critically. "Blue, huh?" he asked, eyeing her borrowed t-shirt. "Shouldn't you be wearing black or something? Isn't that like, the color of death? And your parents are…well….dead?"

"James!" Albus hissed sharply, elbowing him and averting his eyes.

"I was just making conversation!" James replied indignantly. His gaze darted from Albus to Faye, eyes wide with confusion. Albus slammed his head on the table. _Dear god. _

"White." Faye responded coolly, the words somehow legible through the carrot that was in her mouth.

"Pardon?"

"White is the color of death. Black is the color of mourning. I'm not in mourning, I told you that already."

"Why not? Were your parents horrible to you or something?" James leaned forward curiously, most of his weight on his elbows.

Faye looked extremely uncomfortable for a moment, her mouth half-opened in the middle of beginning to reply. She froze, then clamped her mouth shut and bit her bottom lip. Albus saw a little glimmer of irritation in her gaze. "They were _not_ and even if they were it's really none of your business, Potter. Mum wouldn't have wanted me to cry, so I won't and that's all there is. The amount of time you mourn, or even if you mourn at all has_ nothing _to do with how much you love a person, and you're an idiot if you think so!"

She shoved the plate of carrots away with a disgusted frown on her face. She pushed herself up from the table violently. Albus could see her hands trembling. "I'm going to get some air," she murmured. James and Albus sat silently as the sound of her footsteps faded, replaced by the squeaky sliding of the screen door. She shut it a bit harder than necessary, and the smack echoed through the house accusingly.

"Well. Somebody's sensitive." James muttered, his voice loud in the silence. Albus shot him a dirty look.

"Of course she is! Her parents just died, you twat!"

"How was I supposed to know? She said she wasn't mourning." James had the decency to look a bit sheepish.

"How would you feel if Mum and Dad died and people kept asking you about it?"

James fell silent, lips tight. He stared at his hands for a moment, and then looked back up at Albus, a soft grin on his lips. He sighed. "Okay. I see what you mean." He pulled at his lips with his hands thoughtfully. "You make me feel like the younger brother sometimes, I swear."

"Only when it comes to dealing with people."

James scoffed. "People. They're everywhere, damn buggers. You'll see! I'll start hanging out with girls like you do and then _I'll _be the bigger brother again."

"You hang out with more girls than I do, James."

"No. I _date _more girls than you do."

There was a pause. "Touche." Albus had never had a girlfriend. All his knowledge of women came from observation of his cousin, Rose, who also doubled as his best friend in the world. She was an…unorthodox subject to study femininity, to say the least. Albus turned around and looked over his shoulder at the sliding door to the backyard where Faye had disappeared a while ago. "I wonder how long she's going to be out there…" he wondered quietly. James shrugged. She probably needed a bit of time to cool off. Being accused of murdering your parents must have made them an even more sensitive topic than they already were. What with James implying that they were horrible parents, it's no wonder Faye had gotten upset. Normally he would have expected a girl to cry, but it was looking like Faye was more of the type for display hurt with anger, not tears. The Weasley women were the same way.

It turns out Faye's exit had been surprisingly appropriate, as the fireplace set itself ablaze. The flames roared up to an alarmingly tall height, then flared bright green. In small puff of ash the fire receded quickly, neatly depositing two gingers in its wake. The smallest was a gangly girl in her early teens with pensive blue eyes and fiery orange hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her features were soft and somewhat doll-like, making her look a few years younger than she already was. Beside her was her mother, Ginny Potter, who was instantly recognizable as a descendant of the Weasley clan. Like her daughter, she was athletically slim, though her features had lost all teenage awkwardness and softened into a womanly figure. Her red hair was cut chin-length, bringing all attention right to her freckle-patterned face.

The smaller female, Lily Potter, put the bags she had floo'd in with on the floor in a humph and glared accusingly at James and Albus. "You," she pointed at James, "slept through four alarms, and you," she pointed at Albus, "were gone with Dad when we work up this morning, so I had to go get groceries with Mum and she made me carry e_verything._ It took _forever._"

"James, you can go with me next week," Ginny interjected, cutting Lily off to settle the matter.

"What! Why me? Albus wasn't here either!"

"Albus was helping your Dad. You slept all day, so you get to help me next week. And put a shirt on," she added as she laid the grocery bags out on the counter.

"_Finally_," Albus muttered under his breath. It was just all too unnecessary for James to flaunt around the obvious difference between his ridiculous arm muscles from years of playing Beater on the Gryffindor team and Albus's slender but somewhat baby-like muscle mass. It made the youngest Potter boy wish he'd been more athletic as a kid.

Albus rose from the table and began putting away the groceries, quickly. He was hoping to get out of the kitchen and up to his room before Faye came back. His mother could be a bit frightening at times, even when he wasn't necessarily the one in trouble. Ginny kissed him on the cheek as she passed, ruffling his already-messy hair lovingly. "You're home early. Where's your dad?" _Hiding from you._

James an Albus exchanged a nervous glance. "Uhh…well…."

He was saved from having to answer from an explosion coming from the back porch. The high-pitched crack of breaking glass was barely overshadowed by the electric sizzle that followed the initial pop. The two brothers shared a quick panicked glance. Faye was on the porch. James reacted first, throwing himself from the table to force the porch door open. "Faye? Are you okay?"

Albus was close behind him, followed by Ginny, who had no idea what was going on and had drawn her wand, suspecting the worst. Faye sat huddled on the farthest corner of the porch, arms flung over her head to protect her face for the hundreds of little glass flecks that covered the porch. James pulled her to her feet gently, trying his best to brush the glass off of her without cutting his hands up. "It's all in your hair…gosh…"

"What happened?" Albus stepped onto the porch next. Lily tried to follow, but Ginny held her back.

Faye was trembling, and she looked like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was trying to calm down but…I kept thinking about them and the porch lamp exploded on me. I didn't mean to do it, I swear!" Albus didn't need to ask who she meant by "them."

Harry appeared behind Lily and Ginny in the doorway, brought out of hiding by all of the commotion. "Everyone okay?" he asked, voice a bit shrill. Albus noticed that he'd wasted no time in pulling has wand out.

Faye winced. "I'm fine," she said. "It's just-" she gestured behind her to the broken glass.

Albus, thankfully, was able to come up with something more articulate. " We're all fine, dad. she Just got a bit upset. Accidental magic… you know."

Harry opened his mouth to ask another question, but Ginny cut him off." Wait… I'm sorry but who are you again? I thought I knew all of Lily's friends…"

"Err…" Harry hesitated, and looked helplessly at the teenagers around him, as if any of them would volunteer to break the news instead. Albus shrugged, James shook his head quickly, and Faye simply gave Harry a Cheshire grin, amusement clear in the lines of her face.

James patted his father on the shoulder with a sigh and walked past him back into the house. Faye followed Albus, who lead Lily out by her arm. Harry was left alone with his wife, sweating.

Once inside, Lily folded her arms and froze, glaring at her brothers expectantly. Albus groaned. "Well tell you _later, _Lil!"

"But everyone knows what's going on but me!"

James sighed and pushed her forward towards the steps. "She's just staying for a while, okay, Lils? We'll tell you later. We promise."

"You better."


End file.
